“There’s too much variety in the names to really get a sense of whether one particular one affects incoming messages,” he told me in an email.
I’ve swiped, I’ve messaged, I’ve boldly gone where no right-thinking relationship-seeker has gone before (to see a vampire movie on a first date), all in the name of finding love, or at least a cool guy to hang out with.
To this end I’ve been more successful, or perhaps luckier, than my friends.
On my fourth or fifth date arranged through OKCupid I met my current boyfriend, who happens to be the most communicative, fun, and kind person I’ve met, online or off.
I’ll spare you the gush-fest; suffice it to say we’re an awesome match.
I don’t attribute this to an alignment of stars, to the mercy of the web gods and goddesses, or even to OKC’s algorithm, which supposedly uses questions such as “What’s worse, book burning or flag burning? Instead, I chalk up my positive online dating experiences -- which, with the exception of a brazen date who rudely shushed fellow theatergoers (referred to amongst my friends henceforth as “the shusher”), has been without horror stories -- to my careful evaluation of a potential match’s username before arranging a date.
Puns and hyper-masculine references were mostly no-gos.
They were, to me, the pseudonym equivalent of a cheesy pickup line.
Much more appealing were earnest self-depictions or vague, consciously nonsensical noun mish-mashes.
They represented a dry humor than aligns with my own.