Last week, my good friend on the East Coast, who I will call 'Bob,' texted me after midnight in a tizzy about a new dating app called Lulu. I knew this was serious because I hadn't heard from Bob in almost a year, and he didn't sound drunk.
Lulu allows women to anonymously review men they've dated, slept with or want to ruin for other women, and Bob heard he'd been critiqued. He needed me to get the details, as I was still awake and had the kind of access that comes with a vagina.
"This should be illegal," he texted me. "I'm dying to know/afraid to know."
"I'm afraid to look," I replied.
Nevertheless, I downloaded the app. It automatically loaded in all my Facebook friends, including my uncle and his 90-year-old father-in-law. Guys were listed with their profile photos, and were ranked numerically on a scale from 1 to 10.
In a few clicks, I found Bob. He had one review, a bunch of descriptive hashtags, and an 8.9 ranking. The hashtags were divided into two categories of "Best" and "Worst," which delineated what women thought about him.
Under Best, women described Bob as "#LocalCeleb, #SweetToMom, #GrowsHisOwnVegetables, #HeInventedSex, #PantyDropper, #PerfectGrammar and #SexualPanther."
Under Worst, they labeled him as "#NeverRemembersMe, #FartMachine, #QuestionableSearchHistory and #HitItAndQuitIt."
Based on the review, I concluded my pal was an intelligent, sex god with a gas problem. I quickly reported back.
"What does 'questionable search history' mean?" Bob texted me.
"You need to clean out your cookies," I replied.
Bob insisted that he only used his computer to DJ, but later noted he had tight security on all his devices, which sounded like a more reasonable argument. We continued debating the highs and lows of his review, as if he was a restaurant on Yelp.
"I'm concerned about fart machine," I said.
"I seriously never fart," he replied, as everyone does when slapped with such an insult. "Compared to my friends, I am way down on the scale. But for all the great sexual comments I get, I don't care!"
"That's true," I noted. "Plus, you grow your own vegetables."
"What does that mean?"
"I figured you had a garden."
"I definitely don't."
Actually, Bob felt his review was filled with inaccuracies, except for the 6.5 ranking he got on 'commitment.' That, he said, was spot on, if not generous.
Resolving he'd faired well on Lulu, Bob went off to bed and I offered to give him a review to boost his rating. Bob and I have never had a sexual relationship, but you wouldn't know it from the hashtags I was generating. By the time I was finished, Bob was up to a 9.3.
Then, it was time to explore further. As I scrolled through nearly all my acquaintances, I imagined how much it would suck to be a guy. There were some pretty callous hashtags out there. Among them: "#CantBuildIkeaFurniture, #OnlyWearsFratTanks, #BurnsCornflakes and #OwnsCrocs."
I felt guilty looking, but of course continued. Girlfriends were reviewing their boyfriends, even when they were still together. No one wants to date someone with a low ranking on Lulu. I was able to locate all my friends, my friends' dads, my friends' brothers, and even my little brother Ronnie. Ronnie had not been evaluated yet, but that was about to change.
When I clicked on his profile, I was sent a pitch from Lulu: Ronnie hasn't been reviewed yet. Do him a favor and get him started! (Don't worry - he'll never know it was you.)
Well, unless I write about it!
I was asked a series of questions, which used words like "amazeballs," and spelled babies, "bebes." The War On Literacy raged on.
The questions about my brother were different than the questions about Bob, even though I said I hooked up with both of them. I was asked about his sense of humor, how he kisses, what time he gets up in the morning, and what animal he compares to in bed (lion).
Then came time for hashtags.
His best qualities ... pick a bunch!
Answer: #LadiesFirst, #CleanBathroom, #TallDarkAndHandsome, #Big.Feet., #TrueFriend, #Adventurous, #SweetToMom, #LifeOfTheParty, #GreatListener, #EnergizerBunny, #Unicorn, #NotADick
I clicked next, but ended up going back to add "#GrowsHisOwnVegetables" because I thought maybe Bob and I were out of the loop on some emerging euphemism.
His worst qualities ... how many?
Answer: Zero, BITCHES.
With that, I brought my brother in at a 9.3 - competitive with Bob - and a review that summarized him as, "He's no slouch in the hotness department."
You're welcome, Ronnie.
Ronnie has a girlfriend, so I will definitely be recommending she sign on to get these numbers up. The Garcias are winners, and we will win at Lulu.
For all my other guy friends, hit me up if I can be assistance. I might start charging depending on demand.