I’d assumed that our shared love of Three 6 Mafia and road trips meant we’d at least have a second date, if not end up getting married, but Ken had a different vision.Apparently an ENFP (me) and an INTJ (him) could never work out, primarily because of the initial letters, to his mind.” He boasted that he was an INTJ (a rare MBTI profile most notably shared with Unabomber Ted Kaczynski, he confided) and was curious if I’d ever taken the test.I could only give some half-baked combination of letters based on a shaky memory of undergrad psych but in retrospect, I should have really responded with STFU.
He wouldn’t consider dating someone long-term if they weren’t a compatible sequence of letters.
“I personally have thought about swapping out my MBTI type to mention that an online ‘Which Parks and Recreation Character Are You’ quiz told me I’m Li’l Sebastian, just to see what happens.” I’m inclined to agree with Landry — I’ll admit that, post-Ken, I’m just as apt to discount someone for their Myers-Briggs score as I am for their results on a “What Kind of Condiment Are You? (I’m a garlic aioli, looking for a BBQ sauce, if that means anything at all.
It doesn’t.) You can rationalize that maybe it’s a bit more justifiable, but in this context it’s just another broad stroke.
It seems like a small percentage, but OKCupid’s data-crunchers assure me that it’s actually significant to have something new trending across so many profiles. Post-rejection, his identification with the antisocial Unabomber began to explain some things. If we’d continued on because we were sexually attracted to one another and both loved David Byrne, our relationship probably wouldn’t have lasted — and not just because he’s the kind of person who would break things off based on a quiz you can take for free on the internet, and I am not.
It’s become enough of a “thing” that people have parody answers on their profile (e.g., MBTI: IDGAF). He’s emotionally reserved while I’m full of emotion. Dating today seeks to streamline a deeply emotional process.
Thanks to Tinder and OKCupid (and Hinge and Grindr and Happn and Flutter and Bumble and Raya and whatever app is about to come out tomorrow), there is a seemingly endless supply of options, and to make sense of them, we make snap decisions based on very little information. We do, and then we have to hope that the few hours we spend with a person won’t be a waste of time or the preamble to the news story about how we went missing.