OkCupid Launches IRL Happy Hours For People Who Hate Having Sex With Internet Randoms

Oh god. It's happening. OkCupid is tip-toeing into the realm of IRL - excuse me, “Away from Keyboard”, for you alpha nerds. Now, instead of trying to game your profile, go meet some 6s in-person and try to woo them with your sparkling cocktail conversation.

Just to crank the notch on pretentiousness, they've found a way to collaborate with the international tweed-conglomerate, Banana Republic. At least there will be vodka involved. So if you want to drown your singledom sorrows while meandering through mannequins draped in gingham, you can sign up with a relatively complete OkC profile, $5 (that's what the fee was for yours truly, please let us know in the comments if this price is individually skewed), and a panache for awkward self-deprecation. 

Conveniently scheduled before everyone's favorite low-expectation holiday, you can learn about the types of people attending (8 so far!) by the expertly gathered provided attendee data, like how often they meditate (80%, rarely and 20%, never) and the fact that 100% of them spend more money on food than clothes (unfortunate venue then, huh?). 

Don't even get us started on that event photograph. Feels like there was a stock image search with the keywords “uncomfortable social gathering” + “diverse twenty-somethings”. 

Whatever. See you there, sadfaces.  

Lonely Mission Hipsters Flood OkCupid Longing For Thanksgiving Love

An anonymous reader sent this screenshot Thanksgiving night, noting “my inbox has been blowing up with okcupid messages from girls with neck tattoos and pop's bar trash alllll day. I guess people are bored at home or just hella randy from fisting birds all day?”

Oh golly.

But we get it—the holidays are rough on us single folk. Parents nag you about producing a grandchild that they know ain't coming anytime soon, your wifed-up friends get even more couply, and instead of going home with your significant other after the company holiday party, you end up explaining to your boss that the xerox machine is in urgent need of repair and you'll be finding a new, awkward route to your desk for the next few weeks.

So here's to you, lovelorn boys and girls.  May your Christmas be filled with disappointing first dates and creepy internet stalkers.

(Also, please excuse our tardiness in reporting this holiday news—a busy weekend schedule of drinking beer and eating soggy potatoes means we're only just now reading our email.)