Let’s talk Tinder. My findings:
- As you’re probably aware, swiping right indicates you ‘like’ someone/don’t find them entirely repulsive while left says “hard pass, bro.” What you may not know is that girls have a roughly 99.9% chance of matching – something that happens when both parties approve of each other – with everyone they deem worthy of a right swipe. “Is this typical?” I questioned my focus group, i.e. a few of my girlfriends in a group text. They agreed with a resounding YES and/or yas queen. Conclusion: men on Tinder lack any sort of standards and are simply trying to maximize their chances of getting laid. May the odds be ever in your favor.
- Tinder confirms that, yes, LA is indeed as stereotypical as you think. 8 times out of 10, the guy will describe himself as an aspiring actor, model, musician, or writer; that’s usually code for “seating host at your local Italian restaurant.”
- They’ve recently implemented a ‘super like’ option where you can let 1 person per day know that you don’t just want to bone, you really, really, REALLY want to. Their marketing director probably surmised girls would find this flattering – out of all the thots in the sea, you chose me! – but it really just screams “Craigslist Killer.” Pro tip: men, we know how thirsty you are, but at least try to hide it a little.
- When browsing the men on this app…. face-wise, things weren’t great.
- If he has sunglasses on in his first picture, he will be fug.
- If his first picture is a group shot, he will also be fug.
- It’s science.
- I included my Instagram handle in my bio to test how many randoms would be desperado enough to look me up and/or slide into my DMs. There were many.
- Please note that I deliberately only swiped right for attractive/seemingly sane dudes because I didn’t want to be harassed and subsequently murdered by some weirdo wearing camo. Despite my best efforts to weed out the crazies, the messages I procured still fell short of “socially acceptable.”
They ranged from boring:
To corny:
To desperate:
To… whatever is going on here:
And these are the types of profiles you’re bombarded with:
Not sure how kosher it is to post someone’s actual pictures… but this one was clearly too majestic not to share with the world/now you know what my future boyfriend looks like.
So… that about sums it up.
For blogging purposes, Tinder is a comedic goldmine – but for sanity purposes, not so much. If you can overlook the blatant misogyny, widespread stupidity, and occasional nudity, Tinder is a solid way to waste time/provide you with something to browse so you can avoid socializing in public. But make a vow to yourself to NEVER take it too seriously. Really, do it now.
The depraved creatures of Tinder have one talent and it’s segueing each and every conversation topic into how bangable you are. There were zero questions about my occupation, what my hobbies were, or whether or not I was a flourishing serial killer. Because who cares if I happen to be an anti-Semitic, emotionally unstable hoarder, as long as I make nice arm candy!
Guy: You seem tall and like you have a fantastic ass. How tall are you?
Me: 5’8″
Guy: Was I right about your ass?
Me: No.
(We all know that’s a lie, but I didn’t want to give this mouthbreather the satisfaction.)
After the 10th consecutive message about my peach emoji, I experienced a minor existential crisis over the legions of men I have rejected in my lifetime. Mostly, I turned them down due to lack of chemistry – but a lot of them were nice, intelligent, and at the very least, didn’t initiate convos with “got nudes???”
Panic coursing through my veins, I snatched up my phone and unearthed a true artifact from my contacts list: the phone number of my college crush. My fingers hovered above the keys with hesitation. Was he even still alive? I had no clue. All I knew was that he had liked me at some point – and maybe that was enough. There were only so many normals out there!
But then I remembered I had no genuine interest in relationships and had already found The One (it was myself), and transitioned over to Hinge and Bumble.
The Art of Being Basic 