On his 37th birthday he got an email. I love your OKCupid stuff, it said. Would you write my profile. Some messages. $500. Vlad.
He didn’t write for money. Instead he made cold calls for a real estate office in Rancho Cucamonga. I see the lease is almost up on your refrigerated warehouse. There’s a new property with rail spur. Specifically designed for meat storage, or citrus. If you meet your wife I get ten grand, he said. He was kidding, but Vlad said: done.
Vlad already had a profile. He was handsome. Had money. Said it was from software. The new way of saying your dad. Lived near the beach. Had a law degree. There was no reason Vlad had to hire someone to write OKCupid messages. Write OKCupid messages at all. But women like to be chased.
You seem like you must do OK, he said. Not that I don’t want the work. But why are you asking.
I don’t get the real girls, said Vlad. I get the girls who want a free house so they can think about astrology. You seem like you get the real girls.
Are you OK on a date?
I can close, said Vlad.
He got to work. What to say. I’m eight feet tall, he typed. Ten billion dollars. Nineteen inch penis. I’ll choke you if you want. I promise to make you like me. Leave you twisting in the wind. Erased it.
When he had something he sent it to Vlad and Vlad said here’s my password, just post it. Let me know when you line one up.
**
Her name was Brie. Vietnamese. I want to go out with you, he said. How about it.
Forward of you. Tell me about yourself.
What is there to know. I’m one of God’s creatures. No more significant than an insect, but no less perfect.
Does that yacht belong to you?
We just call them “boats.”
Not to be rude but you seem like an asshole.
I’m a product of our civilization.
I’ve dated “software people” before. You’re either assholes or autistic. And you don’t seem autistic.
Thank you. Anyway I want to go out with you. How about it.
Tell me a story, she said. Then maybe.
**
When he started the story he was trying to be a dick. What women want. But she told him: don’t be like that. It’s not who you are.
He started again. A little fairy tale. A man hated his life and took a magic drug to forget it. Tell me another, she said. He fell in love with a sex toy who became a real woman. She died. Another. He married a whore but she murdered him. He fell in love again but tried to be nice. In her bones a woman’s purpose is to propagate evil. Another. He turned into an old man and died alone but a unicorn saved him. He got a job and married a nice girl and was eaten by a vampire. There was a magic bird. It died alone too. All ridiculous. But it was about how he was afraid. She was afraid too, she said. The world was a trap. Whatever you try just makes it worse. We’re doomed. All of us alone. She understood.
Finally he told a story about a nuclear war. The end of the world. In the story he fell in love. When he got there he almost cried. Because that was the most unlikely part. I love this, she said. I love everything about this. I want to go out with you, he said. How about it. She said yes.
**
The next morning he got a text from Vlad. A thumbs up emoji. And a new OKCupid message. Hey, she said.
Hey.
Can’t text at work. Long story. I had a wonderful time with you.
I get that a lot.
You’re different than I thought.
How so
More to the point. Your dick is bigger too, lol
He felt something shift in his chest. Like an old box falling from a high closet shelf, full of pictures of the dead. Paused for a minute. I have to tell you something.
Oh my God, I knew it. You’re not really separated–
No– actually I don’t know, maybe. But it wasn’t him, he said.
What do you mean
It was me. I’m a different guy. He hired me to write to you.
Holy shit
I’m sorry to bring this up. I’m sorry I did it. But there’s something about you. I really like you and I’m sorry. Can you forgive me, he said. Can we talk about it.
It was a day before he heard back. Whoever you are, she said, you’re amazing.
Thank you.
Can I ask you something?
Yes?
Can you keep writing for him?
delicioustacos 
Brutal. Love it. Thank you for everything you do.
Very good one, but is it part of FSGN!?! Fans are curious.
Yes
Speaking only as a lowly white woman – that ending gave me more satisfaction than most of my OkCupid dates ever did. Bravo.
Niiice, motherfucker.
Commodities all.
Why did u write dis nibba
^^ why did you write this
Damn…
This was really good.
That’s peak cuck right here.
The brutality of your handle could indicate a good face behind a good name — but probably is not.
Doing the world a service. Girls get bored, somebody’s got to fill all their voids.
A woman wants the soul of a poet in the body of a chiseled, trust fund software developer.
It’s a variation on the old story of a hideous hunchback wooing a beautiful woman by feeding romantic lines into the ears of a handsome moron. But the ending isn’t the woman discovering the ugly man and choosing him over the moron. Rather she’s able to have it all, she picks the poetic words and the ravishing looks together. It’s an absurd conclusion that highlights the contradiction, as well as the willful obstinacy, of a woman’s desire.
It also illustrates the technological factor in enhancing and supporting contradictory desires. Smartphones and mobile devices make it easy for this woman to enjoy soulful dialogue with one man while passionately rutting with another. The hunchback isn’t hiding in the bushes, in danger of being spotted, he’s in a different state or another country altogether. He’ll remain unseen, totally obscure except for his crafted conversation.
The technological system increases the options and power of some while intensifying alienation and the split between the mind and body or reality and language.
Delicious Tacos, why do I suspect you wrote me recently on Heartiste’s forum, site that gave you your first 3,000 viewers. If so, why do you doubt that someday I’ll have a media corporation and will want to employ you?
Most of all, if that was you, why do you call yourself a “mediocre” talent? You are anything but.
X.
Why did I suspect that you would show up here today to spazz out again?
The “mediocre talent” thing was sarcasm, you fucking headcase. Shit on you for making me explain that — not for your sake. That wasn’t DT, though I’m often mistaken for him due to my poetic brilliance and my big low-hanging balls. Though I’m not the libcuck that he is. Now fuck back off.
Your Ritalin prescription wore out.
*sighs, walking around, holding hands out* Do you see, Delicious Tacos? How I am hated? Anyway, you came on one of my old blogs, when I was Sorcerygod or someone — so many times, over so much time — and read my review of you. You said “I agree.”
*sighs* Look, DT. You’re a great writer who practices an acquired taste. Most readers are not equipped to appreciate you. To them you’re “quirky” or “eccentric” but to me you make plain sense.
I have moved to Vancouver and would like to bring you up here from L.A. within a year or two. I know it’s a big ask, but by then I should have money. If I don’t, no big loss — you go on suffering half-drunkenly on skid row L.A. (presumably neither in Compton or Anaheim, but what would I know, I’m not Cali-born) and I’ll do my life-thing here.
But if you want to understand what I am, consider me a LOTTERY TICKET. If I pay off your life could get better fast. Guaranteed, these spastic critics or even complimenters of you can’t help you. They’re sponging off you, using you, for free entertainment. For me they’re a focus group helping me hone my writer which I’ll sell someday. For you, they’re parasites, though at least a little god for the ego, amirite?
Hold on for me and don’t kill yourself, Delicious. I think you’d make an excellent, well-paid
executive in a global media empire. And again, if this is bullshit, what’s the harm in holding
out for a free lottery ticket? Somebody was Walt Disney before there was Disney; somebody was Rupert Murdoch before Fox.
I happen to be a creative artist as well as a businessman, outdoing them both. Think about it. If you want to reply to this post, great, if not, fine. I’ll contact you in time when the moment comes.
— X.
I do appreciate your support and comments.
I don’t consider myself an illiterate but I have no idea which one of you does the talking in these dialogues.