The Fastest Way To A Man’s Heart Is Through His Blood:Brain Barrier

Prepare yourselves for the best Ok, Stupid submission of all time.

A close friend of mine went on a date. During this date, he accidentally found himself on a bizarre acid trip. I can’t make this stuff up.

Ever the creative soul, this friend created an audio accompaniment to the story. Hit “play” if you dare.


Now, I present to you, “The Fastest Way To A Man’s Heart Is Through His Blood: Brain Barrier”, by an anonymous weirdo who is close to my heart.

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Apparently I’m Douchey

I’m insanely in love with the university I attended. I want to talk about college all the time. Just last weekend I went to a performance put on by a group from Penn and sitting among all those Penn alumni in attendance, I almost cried because I was so happy to be there.

So naturally, I mention college in my online dating profile.

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Chin Win

I decided to try a little experiment on my Ok Cupid profile this month. While the majority of ladies use their most flattering selfies or head shots as their primary photo, I decided to go against the grain. I wanted to dive deep into the trenches and see what would happen if I put up a picture that defines myself more from the inside than the outside. I wanted a photo that depicted how I really feel and act, rather than how I look with some great makeup and a flattering pose. I wanted to be real (ish). So I made this my new profile picture:


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Much like Snapchat Suitor Cole, Jay was a potential lover that I’d never actually met. It all started out with a message. Then a few more. Eventually, he asked for my number and I obliged. At first glance, Jay seemed perfectly suitable as a human and more importantly as a date. He went to a great college (one that I was rudely rejected from in my senior year of high school) and he was on the swim team there. Everyone knows abs are a serious plus and make terrible men seem kind of okay. This was almost one of those situations.

Knowing that he was well educated and seemed like a nice guy, I told Jay I’d meet him for a casual dinner at a nearby Farmers Market. He insisted on picking me up at my house and taking me there, rather than meet. I thought that was pushy. I’m not trying to give out my address to any old dude. Feeling a little turned off but still attracted to his potential swimmer’s body, I did what any modern gal in the online dating game would do before giving him the go-ahead. I googled him. 

While Google yields fine results about sports accomplishments and scholarships, the ultimate prize is to find a man with a Facebook page that’s open to the public. This should be a turn-off, as only idiots have their Facebook profiles completely available to everyone with Internet access. Jay is one of those idiots, though. And this leads to why we never ended up meeting.

While doing some Facebook sleuthing (stalking sounds bad), I saw that one of my closest friends in LA was a mutual friend. Obviously I texted him and asked his thoughts on this Jay character.

His reply: “We worked together. I wasn’t the biggest fan of his. But hopefully he’s matured since I knew him.”

I knew this was my friend’s kind and considerate way of saying he’s horrible. I confirmed later when I told him that Jay was getting on my nerves with his persistent texting.

His reply: “He’s cocky AND annoying. But maybe he’s your soulmate. I can’t be responsible for making any decisions for you.”

This friend of mine will be very excited to read the following assessment of him and it may get me into trouble later, but I’m gonna say it anyway: he is almost always right. And because of that, I told Jay I was too busy for a potential relationship. I proceeded to delete his number.

This all happened in early September.

Fast forward to two days ago. I had just arrived at LAX after a long flight back from a visit home to Philadelphia. Curiously, while in flight, I’d received a text from an unfamiliar number. The conversation proceeded as follows:




WHAT?! No one ever just comes back like that, months later. Only crazy people do that. Or desperate people. Or people who don’t realize that I am both crazy and desperate and that they should stay away from me.

While I told a lil fib to get him off my back (I’m not exactly dating someone – just currently going on dates with a guy I like), I worry this will happen again in two more months. I’m just waiting for a text asking me if this “boyfriend” of mine and I have broken up yet, and if I’d like to be picked up for dinner at the Farmers Market.

While I’ve never met Jay and don’t really plan to, I feel guilty for rejecting him. It’s true that I’m not currently looking to date anyone beyond the guy I’ve been hanging out with lately. I swear I’m not lying about that. But I guess this nagging guilt will always come with rejecting someone who doesn’t know that my friend told me he sucks and I agreed. Really, the kid’s only crime was having a mutual friend with me on social media.

Moral of the story? Keep your Facebook profiles private, guys. Otherwise it leads to a date rejection. And a post about you on my blog. 

Sorry, Jay.


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