Future Mrs. RootyPoo

I made an impulsive decision to join Match the other night. What prompted this decision was that I received the following message in OKCupid:


It was that message that made me think that perhaps I needed to be on a service that, in theory, was taken more seriously. People have to pay to read and reply to messages. In theory, such messages as that above would not be sent.

You might be asking yourself, well, what were his other messages like? This was his first message to me. His profile content consisted of one word: “Hi.” His second photo was of him shirtless. He has since deleted his account.

In any case, I joined Match. The caliber of people is largely the same as elsewhere. People can still create free profiles; they just cannot communicate beyond “winks.”I signed up for 6 months and will try to fulfill the six month guarantee thing by messaging or replying to at least five messages a month.

Given that there is overlap between the dating websites, people often post the same profiles (I, too, am guilty of this). I don’t have the same user name. Still, I figured that if I was ignored on one platform, I’d be ignored on another. So, I sent a message on Match expecting to get no reply because I received no reply on OKCupid. I should note that I was also in a very, very, very rotten mood.


Goddammit. I replied to apologize about my bitchy message, noting that I was just trying to be realistic (which, given that the guy described himself as a “realist,” I thought would bring some levity). Like the other message sent on OKCupid, it was read and not replied to. Yes — he read my message on OKCupid. That additional 19 miles between Cleveland and where I live is such huge burden.

Suffice it to say, I am not impressed by Match thus far.

That brings me to Rootypoo. I am misspelling his username because I don’t want this to somehow pop up in Google. He was suggested to me on Match because, like me, he’s not a smoker and we share three interests. He describes himself as a slender, never married man with no kids who is an atheist, drinks regularly, and has a high school education. He is looking for a woman between the ages of 18 to 103 within 50 miles of where he lives who is white, between 4’4″ and 6’10” and has an about average, athletic and toned, or slender body type. She can’t be a smoker either.

His summary:
I think I’m pretty easy to get along with. I think it’s because I like to listen just as much as I like to talk. People find it easy to communicate with me and I think that’s a big reason why.

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That lovely orange shirt he has on in his photo? It’s a prison jumpsuit.

I did a reverse image search. Mr. Rootypoo was arrested for making a ruckus at a casino, threatening to kill people while drunk and shouting about being Sicilian. He punched and damaged a wall. He’s actually 27 years older or so than his stated age. Other reports linked to the picture of this man speak to his liking to flash money around at casinos (he’s really into horse racing). He is on disability and has mood swings that make him “challenging to deal with.” That quote is from a lawsuit in which he sued the casino he was banned from for discriminating against him on the basis of his disability. He did not believe that just because he is a “difficult person when it comes to interpersonal relationships,” that should not lead to a permanent ban from the casino and racetrack.

This could all be a social experiment of some sort. I did send a message on Match to ask if that was his real photo. The message has not been read yet.

Could it be true love? Could I be the future Mrs. Rootypoo?? I do like communication. And I could always use a sugar daddy. And Beauty and the Beast has taught me that I’d just need to love him through his temper because, surely, there is a kind prince inside. Then again, I do live beyond 50 miles of where he lives. That distance, man. It’s a killer to my dating life.