Backstory. I decided to give OkCupid a try a couple months ago because, well, why not? I’m thinking 23 is pretty much the best I’m going to look naked and I hate trying to charm my way into drinks at bars. Plus some of the cooler lesbians I know found cool ladiez on there. I was curious to see if that translated to heterosexual lovin. Anyway, during the OkCupid trial, I ended up on dates with mid-level drug dealers, unemployed 30 year olds, and accidental racists. Also, with Keith.

Keith texted me one night asking what I was up to. I told him that I was going to a trivia night at a local bar with my roommates. He said “Cool, I DJ there sometimes.” I said nothing because, well, I really don’t give a shit about DJing.

About an hour later, I am in the ZONE at trivia night and punching the air with excitement. Suddenly, I get a text from Keith that says “Man, you’re really excited about that answer, huh?”

KEITH IS WATCHING ME.

I fire back something delightfully witty like “What are you, watching me from the rafters?” to which he replies “Haha. Yes.” and then doesn’t text me again for the next hour.

I’m getting nervous. 1) I don’t remotely remember what Keith looks like because I just assume that everyone on OkCupid is lying, so everyone around me is a potential Keith. 2) Keith seems to be in the zone while watching me from, which years of watching Law & Order has taught me can only result in my body being found in a parking garage

I eventually identify Keith and say hello at the bar, so that the bartender will be able to identify him as a potential suspect in my murder. He is dressed like a TGIFriday’s manager. He also has a shiny black full-length trenchcoat. I am now officially scurred. I escape under the careful watch of my roommate and go home to deadbolt everything in my apartment.

Keith, however, is just warming up. The next day he asks me for my Facebook name, because he “has to show me something hilarious.” I concede, but add him to the privacy list I usually reserve for parents of my friends (and potential serial killers.) This proves to be a mistake. From that moment forward, Keith begins writing on my wall once a week. He’d share links from CollegeHumor (RELAX DUDE, I’VE SEEN THEM), invite me to his DJing gigs and then send me YT videos of himself when I didn’t go. I have been invited to every party/outing/bowling/club trip he’s spearheaded on facebook in the last 3 months.

And let’s not forget the texts. “I need something fun to do tonight? Anything I should know about?” “Hey, going to a party on ludlow tonight, you down?”  and perhaps the most confusing text of all:

“Are you still pissed cause I pooped in your cereal? Cause I didn’t know it was yours, AND it was grape nuts anyway…I probably improved the taste.”

There is more I could tell you, but it would identify him too easily. And I’m 90% sure he’s already reading this.

And if so, I’d like to take this time to say thank you Keith, for forever putting me off online dating. Now no one shall see me naked. I hope you’re happy.