I am an expert douche-bag spotter.
And that's why it's easy to recognize when I'm being a total douche.
Sometimes I shame myself.
M@tch.com claims that one in every five relationship forms online. In my "uh-huh, oh yeah?" frame of mind, I jump on the little thing we call the Internet and I cruise. I cruise my M@tch.com profile, because what's a single chick without a M@tch.com profile? She's like french fries without ketchup, peanut butter and no jelly, bread sans butter.
So I'm on M@tch. And suddenly, out of nowhere, I'm paired up with this guy and M@tch tells me the following:
1) you both fancy felines
2) like you, he's not a smoker
3) like you, he likes weight lifting.
I hate cats and I've never weight lifted.
Okay, maybe 'hate' and 'never' are too strong. But out of all the things on my profile (a profile that doesn't even mention cats or weight lifting) those are the things my online algorithym decides to capitalize on? M@tch don't know me.
And then I move on.
Next guy. Attractive. 17 pictures. 17 pictures can mean one thing (maybe two). Conceited and arrogant. But I look anyway, and I start chuckling because the first 10were self-poses attempting to be casual. I was mocking him. Inside, I was definitely laughing.
What a douche.
And then I read his profile.
Dude runs a foster care home for displaced teenage boys and is opening a home for pregnant teenagers.
Who's the douche-bag now?