Tinder sucks. Like, really, really, really sucks. I know, it’s not a surprise. It’s been around for a while. I don’t know if I would even call it online dating, per se. To me, it’s the equivalent of a pool filled with used bandaids— on a super hot day. You know it’s going to be refreshing, but there is of course that high probability of something gross coming your way.
In the past week, I’ve seen more French flag photo filters applied to bathroom selfies while a child (caption says, “nephew”) chills on the floor, to last me until St. Smithin’s Day.
But why am I surprised? I shouldn’t be surprised.
In Tinder’s defense though, I did meet my last girlfriend on there— kind of/sort of. And she was actually a pretty spectacular person. But we don’t talk about her anymore. (See below)
MY POINT… is that there are really cool people on there just looking to meet other really cool people. But finding them can sometimes feel like you’re hunting Bigfoot in the dense acreage of the Northwest.
I do get matched, though. A good amount of matches, too! Let’s be honest, it’s always flattering to see a beautiful girl be at least somewhat agreeable to how your face looks.
But then you have to weed them out. Find out who’s actually normal and who just wants to hook-up. One girl I was matched with ended up telling me she was Tindering from her “friend’s phone” and then asked me for $1 to watch her webcam.
What is that shit?
When I do get matched with someone normal (on the surface), it doesn’t go very far, to be honest. I am—admittedly— woefully bad over text. I forget that these women know nothing about me. My sense of humor. Nothing. But I tend to text as I speak and I try to imagine the person is right in front of me when I text. So regardless of what question one was, I might ask question two before I get the answer to question one. And apparently that can annoy people.
And thou shall not send three texts in a row…
But I do. And then they un-match me.
But what in God’s name were you expecting? You swiped me because of how I look, then asked me to come over to “hang shelving” and “use my hands” if I felt kind. Whoa, girl. Relax. Whatever happened to, “Hey, let’s get a fucking latte first.” So don’t get all annoyed because I asked you a simple question like, “Do you know when to use who versus whom?”
Telling someone on Tinder that you just want to hang out and grab a coffee is essentially telling them that your parents were once high-ranking officials in some golden retriever puppy-mill scam gone horribly wrong.
I’m not here for a hook-up, girl. If I wanted to roll the dice and jeopardize my health for a half hour of work, I’d volunteer an afternoon for Trump 2016.
Having said all of that… Tinder and I are breaking up. For good. Forever. DIE, TINDER! USE ALL OF THOSE SOULS THAT YOU’VE DESTROYED, START A FIRE, AND IMMOLATE YOURSELF!
So let this post act as a personal ad— sort of. If anyone is in the Boston or NYC area (I go back and forth) and want to grab coffee sometime, send me an email (listed here).
Are you right for me? GOOD QUESTION. OMG, I was just going to type that as a question!
I don’t know. I guess we’ve no idea unless we try. Though if your name is Misty, odds are we’re definitely not. (sad emoji)
But I was kind enough to include three questions below for you to answer. In my experience, you can learn a lot from somebody by asking just three questions.
Good luck.
Question 1:
Are you secretly April Ludgate?
O YES
O NO
Question 2:
What feeling does the gif below, evoke?
O Happiness
O Sadness
O GOATS FTW!
Question 3:
What continent is the country Libya in?
O Minnesota
O Africa
O Asia
That’s it. ✌🏻
