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.
For OKC, I chose my initials punctuated by underscores, and tended to prefer equally minimalistic, cryptic self-representations, as opposed to, say, song lyrics or anything with “Brooklyn” affixed to it.
I was curious about whether my tendency to critique usernames more harshly than photos was universal, and decided to speak with a linguist about whether or not the language of our online dating avatars says something about who we are.
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.
And of course there is the birth year suffix -- cuteguy1975, for example.”Rudder is right. Unlike gender or income level, there are limitless options and combinations of traits.