Call me a fuddy-duddy. Old fashioned. Square. Fogy.
Until recently, I had no idea what Tinder was.
You’re on an app called Tinder? Is that where you call the car that comes and picks you up at your house?
No. That’s Uber.
I learned about Tinder from my single work colleagues. They showed me the app and I shamefully giggled as they swiped right and left, scoping out the other singletons within a certain geographic vicinity. They also showed me how they can use a separate tinder search where they can find specific people on the app if they were wondering if they were on the app. Where was this when I was in the dating scene? It would have made my life so much easier!
Another colleague was telling me how her ex had been caught using Tinder while they were still in the relationship. They claimed it was their old, inactive profile but Tinder has methods of reducing the chances of inactive users (click to read more) so they broke up because of it.
The college girl in me laughed and said “eew” at some of the male suitors who popped up on the screen. The mom (and quasi adult) in me was appalled and slightly heartbroken by the superficiality.
These are real people with real feelings who are hoping to find real love, and here we are mocking them? How would I feel if I was on this site and someone swiped to the left (meaning uninterested) after my picture appeared?
Yada yada yada.
Some of this is funny.
And then we came to a crop of potential suitors and didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or call whatever authorities are responsible for invoking a Baker Act.
I don’t have a Tinder account because polygamy is illegal and my husband would freak out. Therefore, I enlisted the help of some college girlfriends and Allison of the AA blog to help find the most eligible (!?) Tinder suitors in cyberspace. Here, ladies and gentlemen, are some of the more noteworthy gems:
Me: Vittorio is what would happen if Rainbow Brite, Rosie O’Donnell, and Mr. T had a baby.
Allison: I’m less horrified about this guy’s bloody profile picture and MORE horrified about his cat owning situation. Sorry, Derek, deal breaker.
Me: I do enough “Paperhustling” at the office. It’s no fun. Not sure it’s the same type of paper hustling ole’ Chucky is referring to.
Allison: Cool, Anthony- well, I’ll have to take your word for it that you’re good looking since Tinder doesn’t allow users to upload five photographs and let us decide for ourselves. Oh wait, they do!
Me: Ronen knows pizza is the only way to a girl’s heart. If I was still in undergrad, we’d be a match made in heaven.
Allison: David, your bio makes absolutely no sense. Referencing Jared from the Subway/ child molestation scandal is a surefire way to get LEFT SWIPED. Get off the internet.
Me: Dang, Anthony. Your undies look comfy, for real. Thirtysomething mom problems.
Allison: I… like your Martin Luther King tattoo? #IHadADreamIDidn’tNeedtoGoOnTinder.
Me: It’s like Darth Vader meets a basett hound. Regardless, this picture makes me Juan-t to vomit.
Me: His real name isn’t Jeff. It’s Satan.
Me: If this dude committed a crime, his fingerprints would immediately give him away.
Allison: Christopher has a very specific age requirement (um, does he know you set the age limit requirement yourself?) and also needs his potential life mate to have a carrear. A CARREAR.
The dating pool these days is no joke.
Special thanks to Allison and my girlfriends who helped make this post possible. You know who you are. [Wink.]