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It is the best in terms of the number of boasts it manages to fit in such a small message: 1) Has a “corporate” job; 2) Is a fitness model; 3) Has folks that work for him; 4) Owns suits and ties; 5) Looks good shirtless (presumably).
It is a statement that almost sounds nice if you aren’t listening very closely.But I am not talking about outlines or brief boilerplate messages. I am talking about excruciatingly detailed compliments. Just came across your post and really its seems to be very honest and clear i would surely like to know u better Well I am looking for a nice to be friends with and then take it from there and i really wanna take care of her I am pretty well off and well educated..i guess I know how to treat a woman . ” Perhaps not surprisingly, this message came from someone with whom I shared a higher enemy percentage than match percentage. He was like our Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, but the opposite. “I’m just being real here, I know this is completely random and I know you have entirely no clue who I am, but I was looking through profiles and saw yours and I was blown away. Mean while showing my humorous side in our delightful conversation on things we’ve done and hope to accomplish in our futures.I am talking about sickness—a viral kind of pathology that sneaks up on you, tells you you’re special, and then kills you. Nah, maybe we just meet up and dive into a grand discussion walking around Mall of America, grab some coffee or tea and possibly take in some people watching or I carry the bags while you shop.Though this message is almost its own animal, a mixed-breed neg/cry for help/boast of sorts, I am categorizing it here because clearly this guy has been burned by tall girls before, and it couldn’t have less to do with me if it tried. Nothing spectacular, but how many spectacular first messages can there be in nature?Why would I want to respond to someone who has already prepared himself to resent me and my snobby, exclusive height? You get the idea, I get the idea, every one of us is in perfect agreement that this is the pinnacle of dating-message achievement and I got it all to myself. I’m guessing that two total are sent per year, and though scientists try to encourage breeding, the messages are never really in the mood.
I say “apparently” because I wouldn’t have known this was the case had I not signed up for Ok Cupid along with Jenna, and later my other friend Rylee, and watched with horror as our inboxes filled up with a not insubstantial number of the very same messages from the very same users. It’s that “right mind” part that really makes the difference, isn’t it?