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Maybe instead we can learn to treat each other as equal players of a very silly game that we all secretly take quite seriously. But it seems quite clear to me that we’re not there yet. I’m a feminist, sex-positive 21st century lady whose photos include me posing in a Rosie the Riveter Halloween costume.
I write about gender on the Internet for crying out loud!
Basically, I act like an entitled jerk who can pull puppet strings and make Ok Cupid dance for me however I please. I don’t have to, and so I don’t make myself go through the scary exercise of asking for consideration and possibly being rejected or ignored.
I tell all my single girlfriends to give online dating a try. Your inbox will fill with notes from 19-year-olds in the ‘burbs, 40-somethings who find your taste in music “refreshing,” addled idiots writing “id fck u,” and a handful of age-appropriate, nice-looking guys who can string some sentences together and like to cook.
You set up a profile, pick some cute photos, write something witty about the things that you love (Beyonce, Hillary Clinton, Battlestar Galactica), list some books you like, and then sit back, kick your feet up, and wait for the messages to roll in.
She will offer to split, but you think she doesn’t mean it and you don’t want to be a jerk.
You will march home to an empty inbox and the desire to spend another hour browsing and writing will start to fade.