It’s easy to meet guys in LA because none of them have any shame. At bars, I typically get approached an average of 4.3 times, consistently with the same opener: “You’re so exotic. What are you?” (In these sort of situations, I recommend answering “North Korean,” just to throw them off.)
Last weekend I had one undesirable greet me with, “Besides heaven, where are you from?” I wish that was a joke. Naturally, I responded with “Hell.”
For the record, this isn’t because I’m breathtakingly gorgeous or irresistibly charming or they can sense I have a good credit score (although these things are all very much true)… My theory? The vast majority of LA men are actors and musicians and models, so desperation comes second nature to them. Screw whether sending 7 texts in a row, 3 Facebook messages, a Candy Crush request, and love letter via carrier pigeon is socially acceptable!
Moral of the story: if you’re a young woman in LA who occasionally takes a break from binge-watching Netflix to step foot outside, the quantity of men swarming you will be at a record-breaking high. (The quality of them? That’s another matter.)
So, in my experience, there isn’t a glaring need for dating apps here – compared to somewhere like New York City, where locals tend to be more standoffish, or Juneau, Alaska, where no one fucking lives – but it’s a quick shortcut to an ego boost.
My friend Rachel advised against it, possibly due to the fact she still suffers from Tinder PTSD and wants to preserve my innocence. “How bad is it really?” I asked. “What sort of messages do you receive?”
A glimpse inside her inbox:
And here you thought chivalry was dead!
Still, it was my journalistic duty to expose myself to this wanton STD-infested sausagefest #fortheblog. Feeling braver than usual – or more masochistic, take your pick – I decided it was time to pull an Anderson Cooper and compile research out in the field. Perhaps ironically, I consulted a male friend of mine about dating apps in LA, as he had sampled most of these douche magnets. The way he explained it to me:
Tinder: geared towards hookups. Not everyone with a Y-chromosome is strictly looking for action, but the thirst level is noteworthy. Conversely, if you’re gay, Tinder is much more relationship-based; Grindr is better suited for those late night “What are you up to?” texts.
On a related note, my experience as a single white female has taught me that booty calling has evolved so much that you only need to text someone “hey” anytime after midnight to get your point across. What a time to be alive, indeed.
Hinge: this app differentiates itself by pairing you up Noah’s Ark style with people you share a common Facebook connection with. Aka your options will be friends of friends or someone within your extended network. Which, frankly, I found to be mildly horrifying. But the silver lining is 1) the dude is less likely to be the Zodiac Killer/Ted Cruz… unless your web of acquaintances tends to be shady AF, in which case, upgrade your life insurance and pack that pepper spray, and 2) your potential suitors are less likely to be fuckboys, just given the fact that it’s more challenging to ghost someone on Hinge.
Since there are mutual friends involved, witness protection isn’t as easy – and there’s a level of accountability when a friend of yours knows this person. Or at least there should be. Honestly, most people are dead on the inside and lack any form of moral compass, but that’s beside the point.
OK Cupid: for old people.
Bumble: fun fact: this one was launched by a woman who originally co-founded Tinder. Out of all the apps, Bumble received the most glowing recommendation because the female counterparts are forced to break the ice and initiate each convo. As my friend explained it, I would be granted much more power to dodge potentially gross conversations – always a plus – and since I had no qualms about making the first move (I’m an independent woman that way), it would be a good match for me… no pun intended. Also, their Insta account is gold, so points for that.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BECq80fPj8o/
(I tagged all of my friends, and myself.)
Thrinder: app for threesomes. Yes, this exists. And no, I’m not on it SO STOP ASKING, PEOPLE.
Grouper: Tinder meets group dating. I tried it and it was weird.
I reluctantly downloaded Tinder, and less reluctantly downloaded Bumble and Hinge, and scrolled through. What sort of tragedy did I find? Find out next week with part 2 of my prodigious Study In Thirst. The trauma is still fresh.
The Art of Being Basic 