*Or whatever app the kids are swiping right on these days.
(And yes, I’m fairly certain that romance is dead.)
Beautiful babes, it’s been a minute. In the mean time, I’ve moved twice, both office and apartment, learned to drive(ish), and become really, really single. Sure, I’ve been single for years, but now I’ve sort of accepted this as an intermediary fate. I may be in a slump, or a phase, or have already unwittingly peaked, plateaued, and am now on the slow and steady descent to menopause. Who can really say?
So I’m reading and going to the gym and brown bagging my lunch. It’s very, very dull. I watch TNT marathons on Saturday nights. Sometimes while playing minesweeper, and sometimes while browsing a dating app like Tinder. Sure, it’s stupid, and is very unlikely to lead anywhere, but it gives me an ego boost from the comfort of my own flannel pajamas.
Maybe that’s why I haven’t written in oh so long – nothing really to report. But here I am now, with the ups and downs of the vaguely embarrassing** world of dating apps and sites. And like any scientifically minded person, I like to do my research. So I’ve tried ’em all. Match. Jdate. OkCupid. Coffee Meets Bagel. Hinge. And, most addictive and aggravating of all, Tinder. In my time in the online dating trenches, I’ve noticed that there is a trend of items that will, at a cursory glance, completely turn me off from wanting to get to know someone who may otherwise be a fun, attractive person. And what kind of half-ass blogger would I be if I didn’t share them all with you?
**I realize that basically every single person from 18-32 with a smartphone is doing this. What’s with the stigma?
So, without further ado, here is one girl’s opinion of the Top Tinder Mistakes:
Let’s talk about “your” versus “you’re.” With your grammatical choice, you’ve just failed a self-administered intelligence test. You may be thinking that’s way harsh, it’s a dating app, not a scholarly publication, and you’re right. But this is a numbers game, and first round cuts are made with broad strokes.
Another instant, and perhaps more important cause for dismissal? Being a dick. Real life examples include: “If you like [insert totally normal interest here], don’t bother swiping right,” and; “No fat chicks.” You are arrogant, rude, and your inner high school bully is showing. And to you, sir, I bid adieu.
The First Photo.
Because you only get one chance to make a first impression. My number one photo-no-go would be a shirtless selfie of your abs. Not that your abs aren’t great. I know you know they are, otherwise you wouldn’t be leading with them. Is that really the card you wanna play? That tells me exactly what you’re looking for, and I’m gonna go ahead and say a polite “no, thank you.”
So what would I like to see? A clear, non-selfie photo of you, smiling, engaging in a hobby that isn’t Beer Olympics, or maybe with a puppy, as long as it’s not your ex-girlfriend’s. Then, in your following photos, if you’re just dying to show off that physique, maybe a picture at the beach with your friends. This tells me that you have friends, and that we both like beaches. Hooray! A shared interest!
Money Talks, or Dolla Dolla Bill, Y’all.
This pet peeve operates under the very large assumption that we match, and actually start a conversation, text or otherwise. It may seem oddly specific, and it requires background information…
I want you to know that I appreciate fiscal responsibility. There is certainly no need for you to make it rain, as it were. That’s just wasteful. That being said, I think it’s important to enjoy spending the money you work hard to earn, on whatever little luxuries or vices are important to you. I don’t smoke, or gamble, or go on luxurious vacations, or dye my hair, or play any sports with expensive equipment, or hold season tickets to anything. My underwear is from Target and my comforter is from 1987.
But I fucking love Starbucks.
So, in this hypothetical conversation, when we are talking about our work days, if I happen to mention my morning chai latte, don’t comment on how pricey it is. First off, it’s tacky. And by letting me know that you think my pre-work caffeination is outrageously expensive, and not letting it drop, you are telling me these three things:
1. You’re cheap as hell. That’s your call, dude, but budgetarily, we may not jibe. If you don’t like my $5 coffee habit, you’re really gonna hate my $30 lipstick. But guess what? I like Sephora way more than I like you. Byyyyye.
2. You’re too cool for school. Maybe you think it’s so “mainstream.” You know what? Some things are popular for a reason. The people at Starbucks are nice, and welcoming, and don’t roll their eyes when I ask them to heat up my almond croissant. I cannot say the same for the folks at your hip coffee house, where I feel judged for adding milk and sugar, and people in oversized glasses stake out tables for hours with their laptops, working on their dissertations. (And probably blogs. Irony not lost.)
3. You’re judgmental. This is the real problem. And this more comes into play when you just. Won’t. Drop. It. This has happened to me more than once, where a guy will not let the subject change with my “agree to disagree” or “don’t knock ’til you’ve tried it.” He simply cannot accept that someone would shell out $4.23 with tax for a hot beverage. But obviously I’m not the only one who thinks it’s worth it. Cue up Destiny’s Child’s “Independent Woman,” because how I spend the money I earn is actually none of your goddamn business. I think we’re through here.
Lots of love & luck in the dating game. It’s a madhouse out there.