Adventures with Tinder

I think I learned about Tinder from Straight White Boys Texting

Tinder is basically a dating app without any of the stuff surrounding it. You load up a picture. Tinder shows you people nearby. You say “Yes” or “No” to each. If you both say yes to each other, you can then talk.

I find it very strange, flipping through random faces (or, disturbingly often, disembodied naked torsos) and saying, “Yup,” or “Nope” based on literally nothing but appearance. It makes me feel vaguely dirty.

I move really fast through my Tinder matches. I always put my age range at 30-44, but in spite of this, I never actually accept matches younger than me or older than 42. I should probably change my range.

I say yes to maybe one in twenty. I don’t like anyone too conventionally handsome. I don’t like anyone with a motorcycle. I don’t like anyone whose face isn’t visible. I don’t like anyone with blurry photos. I don’t like anyone who has one of those photos of them between two women. I don’t like anyone whose photo is designed to show off a tattoo. I don’t like anyone in sunglasses. I don’t like anyone whose shot is a selfie instead of something that shows personality and action. (Maybe I say yes to one in thirty. Or forty.)

Note that I am a total hypocrite, since my picture is a blurry selfie. But I’m okay with that. I own it.

Every so often, Tinder tells me, “It’s a match!” Want to measure my neurosis? Here you go: Every single time this happens, I make a little face and say to myself, “Ugh. I hate the jerks who just go through and say yes to everyone.” I know! I’m horrible. So then I start to consider messaging him, but before I hit send I manage to convince myself that he’s just trying to get laid tonight and being totally indiscriminate.

I think this app is profoundly not intended for people like me.


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