The best thing that I got out of OkCupid was a pie recipe (yes yes, I will share, but I have to ramble first).
Following a mutual decision to separate, I spent 57 days on OkCupid before meeting Earl, and then an additional 4 before I decided that I just couldn’t take it anymore. Originally I had intended to ease myself into the world of online dating by not taking it seriously and then gradually offering a more honest and less sarcastic profile when I figured out what that world was like. I was very fortunate in meeting Earl when I did, because I don’t know how successful online dating would have been.
Honestly, I don’t know how single people deal with it. I set up my profile with both a priori acknowledgements of OkCupid’s meat market nature and responses blatantly indicating that I wasn’t looking seriously (“The first things people usually notice about me: My sweet minivan. It has 14 cupholders.”) and still ended up with a ridiculous number of crazy bastards looking for a good time. I quietly reactivated my account just to write this post, and as I type my email is getting bombarded with “Somebody likes you!” notifications. This is what I’ve finally had to change my self-summary section to in order to make them stop:
I’m not looking to meet anybody at the moment. I just reactivated to find old messages that amused me.
No, really. I’m stupidly happy Seeing Someone right now.
And apparently since nobody is reading this closely anyway, I have a tentacle for a right arm. I call him Larry. On the weekends, Larry and I go cruising for puppies to kick and old women to molest. It’s not that I particularly like old women, but Larry gets all homophobic so to appease him (he IS my right arm), I let him do whatever he wants.
Oh, what’s that, Larry?…I see. Larry doesn’t want me to go out with you. Thanks ❤
Yup. I’ve had to make myself sound like a batshit misogynist to dissuade the men of DC from wasting their time on me.
But for single people, what does it take to meet normal people in this town? My understanding is that East Asian women get it worse, but being that my profile was never really written to seriously attract people (“On a typical Friday night I am: At home, reading, cooking, or doing laundry. It gets pretty exciting, waiting for the dryer buzzer to go off.”) there are some seriously persistent people on OkCupid. For me personally, there was definitely a certain progression of men expressing interest in me. Discounting the one-liner messages saying “Hey” or “You’re cute” or “What’s up”, a few other suitors stood out.
First there was a steady stream of bathroom-selfie meatheads. I know enough about OkCupid not to be flattered by these, since apparently they send out hundreds of messages hoping for a handful in reply. Unfailingly, any guy with an admittedly well-chiseled body who messaged me would have a decent enough clothed picture, and then the second picture would be a headless, shirtless selfie taken in the bathroom. The message would say something along the lines of “I love your exotic looks” or “Your [sic] like a dragon lady, 5 stars” or “damn girl, u look good in ur pix”. There was one man who’d pulled his shorts down slightly to reveal the area just above his pubic hair. I showed this picture to a friend of mine, who immediately dubbed him “Cockveins”, judging by the anatomical implication of that area. I never did get drinks with Cockveins, and I sometimes wonder what good times we missed out on. Where by ‘sometimes’, I actually mean “never”.
A really cute mixed-race 25-year old PhD candidate (aerospace engineering) messaged me with a doozy of an opening line: “I was just casually browsing on here and stumbled across your profile and was left breathless, and I felt compelled to say hello. Hello!” I had to reply, if not to be polite then to congratulate him on a message far outclassing messages from other people like “so cute lol, what are you up to, lol lol”. I perused his profile, which seemed to imply that he was a nice enough fellow in search of one woman to share his life with, and then sent a message thanking him for the compliment. To start a conversation, I mentioned that I’d graduated from the same university where he was studying for his doctorate. He quickly suggested meeting up, to which I suggested coffee sometime. His response was, “I don’t want to drink coffee. I just want to taste you.”
I have to admit that when I got that message, I panicked slightly and called a close friend – the same one who gave Cockveins his moniker – asking what to do. I hadn’t dated in 15 years, and certainly 15 years ago, men didn’t go around saying they wanted to taste me. Unfortunately I picked the wrong friend, because he panicked as well and offered me absolutely no assistance. Eventually I settled on honesty, and said, “Wow, that is not what I had in mind. I hope you have good luck finding someone to bone though.” He was polite enough not to message me again.
As for me, I swore off younger men until Earl landed in my lap, because he was impossible to swear off.
The very best conversationalist I ever exchanged messages with was very up front about the fact that he was still unhappily married with two children and no plans of separating from his wife. He sucked me into conversation by hitting me in my weak spot: excellent yet altogether awful pie-based puns. Based on his conversation and sense of humor alone, I actually strongly considered meeting him for pie after he assured me that while he was very lonely because his marriage was doing so poorly, he was just looking for friends since his family lived two states away. Rather quickly though, he was sending me messages every few hours asking for more contact and communication. He had clearly become attached in a way that I wasn’t comfortable with. It was rather dense of me, I suppose, given that he had anonymized his username and hadn’t included any pictures in order to hide his activities from his wife. Who knew so many people lied on OkCupid??
Honesty had worked well with PhDButNoCoffee, so I sent Anon…Nothing a similarly honest message having been in a similar situation before, encouraging him to get off OkCupid and work things out with his wife and discouraging him from further contact with me. He thanked me for being straightforward and apologized for blowing it. A few weeks later, I met Earl through a mutual friend and blissfully forgot about my OkCupid woes until shortly afterward, when I received a message from Anon…Nothing saying that he still liked me and felt he was missing out on getting to know someone special.
I deactivated my account.
I reactivated my account four months later to retrieve some of my funnier messages to share with some of my newly divorced-and-dating friends to sympathize with their online dating troubles. While briefly reactivated, I received a message from a very nice, well-read, intelligent man who was similarly fed up with OkCupid and only wanted to pass on a pie recipe before he himself deactivated. In my mind, he is the best single man in DC no longer on OkCupid.
In this man’s honor, I am including and fully attributing this recipe to him.
Update: I just received a message saying, “I saw your profile, and would love to get in touch. I am all about respect, and understand that no means no. I hope to hear from you. Have a good day.” What part of “Neither I nor Larry my tentacle arm want to go out with you” DOESN’T say “no”?? And does it say more about misogyny or his character that “I understand that no means no” is a necessary clarification? And why are the deactivation settings so fucking hard to find???
The Best and Easiest Pie Ever, by the Best Single Man in DC No Longer on OkCupid
(Notes his, minor edits by me and my thoughts following the recipe. Also, Best Single Man in DC probably intends for you to use a partially pre-baked crust or a graham cracker crust)
(Chocolate and all hand made) This has been the first pie to disappear everytime I’ve brought it and had to get everyone the recipe. It’s also extremely healthy…..
2/3 c. (158 mL) milk
2/3 c. (158 mL) heavy cream
8 oz (227 g) good semi sweet chocolate
2 eggs, room temperature.
Preheat oven to 375°F/191°C
Heat milk and cream, over medium heat. Once warm, melt chocolate and cook until chocolate is completely melted and mixed with the cream/milk. Continue cooking until small bubbles appear along the sides of the pot (do not boil). Remove from heat.
Whisk eggs and then temper with small amount of chocolate mixture. Then pour egg mixture into chocolate whisking constantly. Pour into crust. Bake 20 min or until reasonably set. Cool at room temp then cover and put in fridge.
I made a last minute decision to make this pie 2 hours before a barbecue using a store-bought shortbread crust. I didn’t trust the proportions to fill the pie crust adequately, so I multiplied everything by 1.5 because what the hell else was I going to do with 1/3 cup heavy cream? It’s not enough to whip into pie topping and certainly not enough for making mashed potatoes. Well, it turns out I nailed the volume of the filling, but underestimated how dense the chocolate would taste. I’m not sure I’ve ever made a baked good with 12 ounces of semisweet chocolate before, let alone 8, so I was surprised when sampling some of the filling felt like injecting my entire skull with a chocolate syringe. My advice is to buy a pint of heavy cream instead of a cup and whip the remaining cup to top the pie in order to balance the density of the chocolate out.
The consistency is somewhere between chocolate mousse and chocolate crème brûlée. It is as delicious as the Best Single Man in DC No Longer on OkCupid promises and barely lasted an hour at the barbecue, which should provide a better testament than this picture, which provides evidence of three baking sins:
- I over-beat the whipped cream, so it’s a little grainy
- I used a store-bought crust
- That came in an aluminum pan, which I had to support using a rigid aluminum pan because the filling was so heavy
So it should speak highly of this pie that despite its last-minute ugliness, it still disappeared immediately. Thank you Best Single Man in DC No Longer on OkCupid, from the bottom of my chocolate-filled heart.