By E J Rosetta OK, so as a single lesbian living in a small town, my options are pretty limited when it comes to love. Or even having more than one lesbian friend at a time.(They usually start dating each other and get a cat within a week.) So finding a partner can be a pretty long and painful process.
(I f**king love Paisley) So I signed up, inserted the usual witty comments in the appropriate boxes and tried to choose five pictures of myself where I'm not wearing my onesie or holding my cat. And within a few clicks that was it, I was uploaded! " said my aggressively flirtatious and very-confident double. " And so to the "search locals" box I went, selected one or two potentials (even that felt a little slutty...) and spent some time composing the perfect "Hi, I'm Emily, Please think I'm a nice person" message. Just pick another." The slow realisation dawned upon me that my identical twin had probably snubbed half of the lesbians in the area. But back to it I went, and within a few hours I'd sent maybe 8 messages, all personally tailored to the likes and dislikes of the smiling face that the profile belonged to. Because the sad truth is that, generally, online dating is the romantic equivalent of idly strolling past the shelves of your local supermarket. In my first week, I spent quite a long time reading up on the profiles of those I was about to message. Twinny's advice was to send them a "Hi" or "Hey how are you?Twinny and I kicked back as I chain-refreshed my browser, waiting for the inevitable flock of women I was expecting. Within a few minutes, I see that potential-love-of-my-life number 1 has "viewed me", and so surely it's just a matter of time, right? The girl goes offline within a few seconds, no reply, and my foray into online dating seems doomed forever. " Twinny told newly-single and fragile me, as my eyes started to well a little. If you like something, you pick it up and put it in your trolley ("Favourites") but if you don't, it waving desperately at you and acknowledging all of your common interests isn't going to make a damn bit of difference. I thought it would make me look considerate and thoughtful. " at most, because if they liked the look of me, they'd reply. if they don't like me, "They aren't going to read all that crap you wrote about your cat." As my bottom lip started to tremble, I glanced over at my sister's full message box then decided to buck up a bit and take her advice.Imagining myself just standing in the corner of a gay-club somewhere, giving sultry and fleeting flirty nods to various women, I started to shoot out the "Hi"'s and before you know it, I had some replies! Now we all should know by now that sarcasm doesn't work in anyone's favour on the internet.Who knew, that being short and dismissive would actually work, eh? Unless you're arguing with a 12 year old about the best character in "Friends" (obviously Chandler) then sarcasm has no place. Most people will check their dating app when they have spare time, or if they feel like a bit of a boost.Like on a train or after hanging up on their screaming ex.
So, as I learned, what you think is a witty message may just come across as you being an ass.Take, for example, my attempt at humour with one of my first interactions.So this woman (let's call her ) had quite the array of plus points.Nice pictures of her actually having fun (Don't be pouting-in-a-club-in-every-picture lesbian.Just don't.), varied interests and a decent introductory paragraph.Mainly, she'd actually written something in her box, rather than some people's "Oh God, I HATE these things, they're so embarrassing...! So when Lezzy Lesbo87 got back to my "Hi" with a perfectly sweet message about her day and the fact she'd been caught in the rain, this is how my brain deemed it appropriate to respond... What I thought would be taken as a tongue-in-cheek and ever-so-charming quip turned out making me look like a smarmy, generalising dick.