Who Knew It Could Get Worse?

A couple weeks ago I was drunk and bored so I decided to start a social experiment. I hypothesized (to myself) that I’d either be inundated with messages due to my purposefully appealing to stereotypical male loves or get none at all because my profile was one sentence. ONE SENTENCE.

It was somewhere in the middle.

As stated in my Social Experimentation post, I created a new profile on Plenty of Fish that professed, I make amazing homemade pizza, believe bacon goes with everything, and beer takes up 90% of the real estate in my fridge. Because what guy doesn’t love a chick whose priorities are pizza, bacon and beer, right?

I’ve had a regular POF account for a while and anyone who’s ever used this site knows, it’s note exactly a brain trust. Going into this, I thought my expectations were low…

They were not low enough.

In two weeks I got around ten messages that just said, “Hey.”

Several messages that told me how interesting I sounded.

I got one that said, “I want to bite your tongue.”

Several obligatory, “Hey gorgeous” (or some variation thereof) messages. Because if you tell a chick she’s pretty her mind immediately goes into squee mode and she’s gonna want to blow you, amiright fellas?

And my personal favorite, one that said, “Nice hoots.”

Honestly, this was probably definitely a waste of time and not nearly as entertaining as I’d hoped.

I think what we’ve learned here is that telling a guy what you think he wants to hear is not conducive to beginning a healthy relationship. (Shocking, I know.)

Unless you have nice hoots.

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