Vincent Pham – vietboiphoeva

I figure that if I don’t find my spouse-to-be in college, online dating will clearly be the only option to get myself out of the celibate life (I said, sarcastically). I’ve always wanted to be the guy who tries everything once, so the online dating commenced.

I’m going to be honest — I had some trepidation. I didn’t set up my profile for anything amazing. I answered a few questions on OkCupid and put up a profile picture my mother approved of and filled out my information sparsely.

As I scrolled through countless numbers of potential mates and messaged them, I received a grand total of two responses, neither of which bore any physical contact (i.e. an in-person meeting). Fateful night it was, as I sat at my laptop, ready to do homework. And then I received this: “You have a ridiculously alluring smile, whhhhhyyy.”

If you’re wondering how that messaged turned into a “date” in under an hour, I am, too. I actually had my suite mate take the reins for arranging this meeting, and his mastery of “online women” proved effective. My woman (whose name is still a mystery to me) and I were to meet at Peet’s Coffee off campus in under an hour. Panicky would be somewhat of an understatement of how I felt.

As I got dressed in my easily noticeable outfit to be spotted in public, all I could think about was my persona. I extended the truth on my dating profile so I would seem more attractive. It turns out most women aren’t looking for people in their teen years, nor are they looking for men of very average height. The survey questions I answered to build up my compatibility ratios were more toward a liberal and easygoing lifestyle. I tried to be the image of what I think women want in an ideal man.

I didn’t realize that the most uncomfortable part of meeting someone online was not the interaction between her and me, but the interaction between the two of us and the public. After ordering my masculine soy vanilla latte, the cashier at Peet’s called us out: “Can I ask you guys something? Are you working on a project together?” We say no, meekly. “Are you guys on a date?” the barista asks.

I perspire. I nod yes as my date says no. To make up for the most uncomfortable situation in my life, the cashier hands us a free pastry each as we grab our drinks and head to the table outside (to get away from people).

If you call what I did a date, I wouldn’t call it great. If you call what I did meeting someone new for the first time casually with no intentions, I think it went just fine. The problem for me with online dating, and especially a situation like this one, is that the relationship doesn’t feel genuine. You go through a process of messaging this person behind a screen, and then conversation begins, as would an interview. The exchange of basic questions to get to know about someone’s life seems acceptable in a setting in which the two people begin from a place they have in common, like school, but in the context of online dating, I just find it strange.

Online dating isn’t all bad. If there’s one thing I will never forget from the experience, it will be this: “hey, do you want to see a whooty (whooty being a white girl with a booty) ;)?” Yes, I most certainly did.

Jean Lee – jeanius

Anyone who knows me well has probably seen me give my two cents on online dating and how I can be an elitist brat regarding the issue. I’m not saying I’m Yoda when it comes to dating — I’ve probably done more dating don’ts than do’s and passed up more than a few potentially great dates. And I’ve likely commented on the male gender in an insulting fashion one time too many. Nonetheless, I feel I’m pretty open-minded about who I go on a date with: age, schooling, job or lack thereof, music tastes, etc. They’re usually “whatever” factors. I’ve come to accept that most guys won’t like Indian food as much as I do or know what my favorite Radiohead song is. But there’s one thing I never wanted to give a chance when it came to dealing with guys: Online dating.

Up until a few weeks ago, I was comfortable proclaiming that I’d be the last person to try online dating. There’s no doubt that my outlook was backed up by episodes of “To Catch a Predator” and MTV’s “Catfish.” I convinced myself that I was long past the days of analyzing virtual profiles, i.e. Facebook stalking a guy I just met to see how compatible we were. What also didn’t help was my hopeless romanticism; I love hearing “how you met” stories and, I’ll confess, I just didn’t think the ones that met online were as qualified.

Fast-forward a few weeks and my impulses decide to flip upside down — I took on a little experiment and decided to try online dating.

What at first was a self-given challenge to set up an account and actually go on a date resulted in some pretty eye-opening moments. I chose to set up an account with the site OkCupid, which I had heard was more reliable than its counterparts for the college crowd.

I didn’t bother filling out my whole bio, and even today, it’s relatively empty. I uploaded five generally conservative pictures of myself — no cleavage or suggestive poses. The variety of messages I received ranged from a simple “hey” to creepy sexual requests to actual witty introductions.

I found myself clicking on dudes who either messaged me or visited my profile, and very often, I came across something they posted — whether it was their bio, an answer to a question, or a picture — that I didn’t like. That would be enough for me to lose pretty much all interest, and although that might be messed up, I kind of just knew something didn’t click, and I didn’t care to look deeper. After more than a week of getting constant notifications on my phone and computer about who “chose” me or “checked me out,” I was ready to officially break up with OkCupid.

But then there was James.*

Out of defiance in getting virtually hit on and me feeling more annoyed than flattered, I clicked on the “Matches” tab. I scrolled down and saw James and the “86-percent match, 0-percent enemy” next to his name and picture. I clicked on his profile and saw that his few pictures were completely normal, and that he was cute. I read his profile information, and surprisingly, I clicked with a lot of it. I messaged him, he responded, and as we talked, it was obvious that we had chemistry.

I really appreciated that he asked thoughtful questions and never threw some sexual comment my way. We got to talk about urban gardens in SD, adorable spots in North Park (where he’s from) and what we’re studying in school. It also helps that he loves mom ‘n’ pop stores, thinks gender roles are oppressive and that he’s a law student.

So here I am. The girl who vehemently dismissed online dating is now looking forward to getting to know someone she met online. Now, it could turn out that we meet up and he’s completely un-charming in person, or that it never even develops into us meeting. Regardless, I’ve learned a lot about modern-day dating, people’s behaviors, and most importantly, myself. For those as resistant to virtual dating as I once was, take into consideration the negatives you’ve heard, but don’t let the stigmas predetermine your experience. Obviously, OkCupid is flawed in various ways — upgrading to a monthly fee grants you unlimited access to invisibly stalking your potential partners — but if you’re aware of the not-so-honest aspects of online dating, then I think a positive outcome is actually possible.

*Names have been changed