The app works like this: you pick a time and a location, and OKCupid pulls up a list of potential dates in the area, along with their first names, ages and scrambled photos of their faces. As someone who appreciates serendipity (or at least the 2001 John Cusack film version), I wanted to see whether the app represented a brand-new, profile-browsing and questionnaire-free frontier in the world of online dating.
Yet when I told my friends I was testing out the app, the response overwhelmingly skewed pessimistic. This was followed by the almost equally unnerving possibility of being “set up with someone you went to Hebrew school with.” Online, the response to Crazy Blind Date was just as negative.
Like the Fonz, I could snap my fingers and have a gaggle of scrambly-faced males at my disposal. I received my first message from Carlos a few minutes after we arranged our date.
It was innocuous enough — confirming for Saturday — but the signoff, “Good night and sweet dreams,” raised immediate red flags.
On Sunday, Neil told me to meet him at a wine bar on the Lower East Side.