Why do I like Tinder so much when the anecdotal evidence is so gruesome?
Well, it’s not for the results (obviously). They’re fucking awful. If I was results-driven and morally limber, titty bars and brothels would be a much cheaper and more efficient option.
Again, I remind you not to mistake online dating for Tinder and other social apps. Online dating (like real dating) can be fun because both parties arrive with matching expectations – or at the very least, similar, in that they both want to be there. Half the time, Tinder dates feel like job interviews that you spend a lot of time, money and effort on, all the while knowing you have no chance of getting the job.
In other words, if online date sites and Tinder were live venues, the online dating sites would be the exclusive cocktail clubs with entry fees and exorbitant drink prices, while Tinder is the free-for-all public house. And I like public houses. Public houses champion diversity, and don’t discriminate, especially with the most obvert and underhanded tool of discrimination – membership fees!
Like the quintessential watering hole, Tinder at least is trying to preserve the quixotic feeling you should always charge at earthen windmills, because occasionally nature or the windmill will let you feel like you won.
I must admit, I’m also a sucker for lists and most comfortable in situations of low expectations.
- Nostril flaring laughs,
- cycling in the city,
- being active,
- whippets (and other dogs) 😉
I’m happy to see where this may take me and you never know I might meet that creative, genuine soul… That would be nice!
- Good job
- Enjoy skiing, wake boarding, walking, climbing and lots more!
- Long hair
- No ‘daddy issues’
- Brown eyes
- Love dogs
- Girly girl, but also owns Wellington boots
Looking for something special. If you have poor integrity or are after something more casual, I’m afraid I’m not your lady. I’ll be more impressed by your National Trust card than your ability to get on guest lists at clubs. Want to know more?
- teaching art,
- my bike
- Wanting new bikes
- bow ties,
- framing things,
- feeling joy.
Pretty cool if you are confident, intelligent, kind, funny. Looking to meet new friends first, if something more happens cool. p.s. Cool it with the selfies and gun pics.
- the outdoors,
- dancing and discovery,
- meeting amazing souls and having amazing connections.
- Tunnocks Caramel (I am eating one now)
- Having the time to read a book
- People who can build a good fire
- Vintage furniture, preferably Danish (like the sofa I am sitting on)
- Broken things that need fixing
- Conversations that make me question things
- People who know what they want from life (or at least are trying to work it out)
- Seeing people enjoy something I’ve cooked/made/found for them
- fresh flowers
- red wine
- You like wine
- You like food (especially my cooking)
- You like sunshine
- You like the camping / outdoors
- You like to try new wine bars / restaurants / festivals etc.
- You walk/ run/ swim or something to stay healthy
- You have travelled, or would like to travel, or at least read the travel section of the newspaper
You will have 3 more suggestions of things I can like about you!
- punk rock,
- my dog,
- working out,
- good friends, and good beer.
If it matters I’m also a devout atheist.
I also like the chase – I don’t mean chasing women. That’s really socially unacceptable theses days, and way too exhausting anyway.
I’m talking about the Tinder Race – the competition to be the first to uncouple and unmatch after a Tinder date. Often it’s a race to get home because you can’t legally use your phone while driving. However, I regularly let my mobile phone credit lapse and without wifi I can’t compete on the train ride home after a Tinder date. Both of these fixtures are fiscally determined (which I appreciate can contribute to the reason I’m single and on Tinder). So I can’t even compete in the race, which is also a bummer. Usually, I text to ask if they got home safe – half the motivation for this is to generate a digital date-stamp for an alibi; and the other half I can chalk up as chivalrous gesture.
When I wake the next morning, check my phone and realise the person I spent three hours developing a healthy rapport with the night before has become a ghost, with barely a digital footprint proving their existence beyond the memory is common (at least in my experience). And it is little wonder such experiences conjure latent bouts of depression and self-doubt, which leads to negativity and blame, and push-button rejection and deletion of dating apps like Tinder (at least for a while).
However, rejection is part of life. I mean now that it is performed surgically and remotely, isn’t it kind of better?
Well, yes and no. We are now no longer subjected to those insufferable marathon breakup sessions full of clichés, euphemisms, vague transformative self-discoveries and wildly irrelevant analogies. But surgery can be pretty fucking messy too. So now that our opposable thumbs smite connections with swipey gestures and drag-and-drop features based on the welter of the heart, or some preordained transfigurative idea of romance and a spark means there’s also lots more rejection in many peoples lives – often outweighing the good shit. Gone are the days of yore where courtships then marriage were class-driven, convoluted and corralled by social norms and expectation; where olden-day folk probably only ever got rejected once or twice in their lives.
I think it’s feelings of manipulation and lack of closure people resent when grappling with social dating apps (which is why everyone hates HR departments). But if we all had lots of exuberance, intense interaction, brutal honesty, and closure people would probably start to resent these things too.
Personally, I enjoy predicting outcomes – and the satisfaction of seeing a circumstance unfold or connection dither then vanish (as I envisaged) vindicates my agile instinct and intuition. Believing in bad luck is stable ground – as long as you don’t go too far and stop appreciating once in while how lucky most us fuckers out there are (especially if you can see and hear yourself out loud point and count out all of your fingers and all of your toes).
However, in the end I think the reason Tinder, and other social dating apps are peril is because of our old friend…
And while mobile connectivity is a dynamic behemoth; it’s also a sly charlatan, a gimmick, a trick, that’s very good at exploiting a chief humanistic quality – we’re organic and as such slaves to ludicrous organic concepts of timing and calories. So we’re all kind of lazy unless there’s enough persuasion, incentive or reward; so rather than finding a good fit whether it be socially or physically, we have a limpet tendency to grab onto those within reach and hitch a free ride. In other words we try to make whatever is in our lives work, no matter how ill-fitting rather than seek out a more tailored or compatible fit – like a toddler bashing pieces together in a jigsaw set.
We did it with Tinder, corrupting a hookup app into a dating site with a strong majority seeking abstract shit like “spoons that fit” and “partners in crime” instead of uncomplicated one-nighters and no-strings-attached affairs. In the same manner we find it very easy to identify and appreciate what we don’t want; but we’re ratshit at doing the deep mental excavation to reveal what we do want. Even our entire speech centre goes batshit when confronted with anything remotely resembling what we might want. We revert to our most primitive selves, offering up monosyllabic salutations with a pixelated wink or smirk or high resolution snapshots of our genitals (while our profile pictures remain wide-angled and out of focus).
So to make it easier, I’ve included a few handy blokey Tinder Tips below because let’s face it – consistent and continued failure can occur in real life too. And without a social dating app like Tinder to blame you could end up a litterbug and pariah of quaint villages in the UK like this guy.
- Grammar nazis: Starting off with this more obvious recommendation, unless you like going on dates with antagonistic and anal people, avoid any self-appointed grammar nazi. I’m not saying it’s bad to be into grammar, it’s just that when it’s one of your main selling points, it’s equivalent to a houseshare wanted post headlining a strict vegan, non-smoking household before digressing into the etiquette of unpacking the dishwasher and declaring how ambivalence won’t be tolerated. I have to admit I did once match with a “grammar Nazi” so for a bit of fun I messaged her, pointing that general rules of Capitalisation made it unclear whether she was a grammar nazi, or an actual Nazi who also happened to be a grammar nazi. She wrote back and said I was the worstest person ever.
- Single profile photo: I get it! You want to maintain some mystery and why the fuck should you pander to all those pedantic and judgemental arseholes out there by giving them a portfolio of opportunities to discriminate against you based solely on your looks. But this is Tinder, it’s kind of the point – and one photo isn’t enough. Apart from the risk and effort involved in asking someone out on a date based on one image, there’s little narrative to derive from a single photo – and it’s narrative that gains purchase on the heart to make us act.
- “Must love dogs”: On the surface, the ubiquity of this statement could easily be disregarded, along with all the hollow popularist and meaningless crap we say about ourselves like “loves yoga, travel, meeting new people, nature, and staying healthy”. But what it is actually saying is, “Must love MY dog”. And while someone would have to be fucking messed up not to like the concept of dog, a single woman’s dog can be a motherfucking son-of-a-bitch cockblocker. I once dated a girl from Tinder who had rescued this scabby mongrel from a tough life on the streets. It was a chihuahua-terrier mix that had one good eye and an ungoldy mowhawk which reminded me of Stripe from Gremlins. It was also fiercely loyal and protective and a bit of a racist. And while I respected it’s individuality, it took so fucking long to calm the cur down when I was around or made a move – it was becoming a hairy, barking wedge in our burgeoning relationship. Then one night when we were both on the couch watching TV, it pounced onto my chest without warning. Instinctively, I brushed it off me and back onto the floor – because it wasn’t a cute or compromising “let’s bury the hatchet and get to know one another” gesture; it was pre-emptive check-in. This was instantly misinterpreted as an abusive act. The burden of semantics was a Seinfeld homily, where I defended my “brushing” of the mut against her claim I “bat” the dog away – it started off as a joke and could have been a funny episode except it was real life. And soon the incident became the perfect tool in our verbal jousts, to parry and thrust a joke about me abusing animals that wasn’t really a joke – because it was never about the dog in the first place, which brings me to my next tip.
- “No emotional baggage”: Beware Tinder profiles that advertise a prerequisite of “no emotional baggage” (often using the suitcase emoji) as if to imply they have no emotional baggage – when everyone knows everyone on Tinder is damaged! Anyone who claims otherwise – those who love their career and family and friends, owns their own house, is financially secure, loves to read and meditate, and lives a healthy and balanced life without any emotional baggage are like the guilty screaming loudest that they’re innocent. (And if you match with a physically and psychologically balanced freak who has no emotional baggage when they sign onto Tinder, be sure as shit they’ll fill their international economy two-bag quota by the time they quit Tinder.)
- “Maybe some other time”: Stay clear of anyone who sequences indefinite terms into sentences of pure vagary.
- Profiles with horses: I don’t know why, but when I see profile pictures of people with horses, it conjures an image of Queen Elizabeth with her corgies – an instinct (lacking anecdotal evidence) that people who are into horses probably aren’t real strong people persons.
- Musician/Artists: Anyone like me who direct you to their website, or their latest gig or art installation is in part using Tinder for solicitation. But go easy on us because the internet = solicitation; and most of us are desperate and penurious and well if you listed “creative” in your profile, one out of three ain’t bad.
Finally, don’t give up y’all. And look I get it – it’s tough out there, looking for meaningful connections in a world soaking in connectivity – where meaning seems to have less density these days, or we struggle to attribute the correct weight to it. Like basic literacy and reading habits such as skim-reading and glossing over words – it’s not that words have less meaning, we just ponder over them less and don’t give a shit about good grammar, leading to gross misinterpretations and inferences and insinuations. You just got to pivot, lean, roll-n-rock and adapt; to learn how to extract it from between the lines, in the spaces, the pulsating ellipses, the subtle placement of an emoji, real-time versus delayed reactions, and most of all don’t take shit too seriously and have some fun.