A friend recently asked me which dating apps I was on. I listed three: Hinge, Bumble, Tinder. That’s down from the eight apps I was on at peak desperation.
She then asked which ones I was serious about. That knocked my preferred apps down to two: Hinge and Bumble.
She was appalled. How could I possibly not consider Tinder a primary app for finding love? She knew “many” people who had found love on one of the oldest dating apps in the App Store. I should reconsider!
My experience with Tinder has not been great.
Almost every match starts with banal chatter and ends with a man I’ve never met telling me about his sexual fetish.
There was one guy who seemed normal enough to go on a date with. However, when I arrived for said date, I discovered he had T-Rex arms (a visual refresher), spoke with a lisp, and used “like” after every, like, other, like, word. He also picked an upscale restaurant for our date and then showed up in a wrinkled t-shirt and jeans. Check, please!
That was my first and last Tinder date…until last weekend.
After my friend gently berated me about giving up on Tinder, I decided to give it a try with true intentionality.
I swiped right on the first guy with a nice smile, shirtless photo, and zero information in his profile other than his name (we’ll call him Gus), age (36) and employer (self-employed).
BOOM! It’s a match! (Tinder lingo, not mine.)
He messaged me first.
“Hi Erin. I’m glad we matched. You are stunning!”
Gus was off to a great start.
After the standard exchange of locations, he announced he was going to bed and that I could text him the next day.
🤔
Um, okay. Text, sir? I don’t even know your occupation. Or your favorite football team. Or what you do for fun?! There is no way I’m going to text you…on your actual cellphone. Who do you think I am?
So I sent him my number instead and told him he could text me. 🤦🏾♀️
Well, he did. And we hit it off right away.
I found out that he’s an electrical contractor, never married, with a 9-year-old son. He prefers football over baseball. He practices jiu jitsu and has for ten years. He’s looking for a relationship because hooking up with random women doesn’t set a good example for his son.
Had I struck Tinder Gold (if you are active on Tinder, you see the joke there)?
We made plans to meet for lunch on Saturday at a local spot near the beach.
I arrived first to grab a good spot at the bar and a drink. He arrived right on time looking twice as handsome as he did in his pics. (And, trust me, he looked very good in his photos.)
The conversation was good. His smile was fantastic, but I could not get a read on him. Was I smiling too much? Laughing too hard? Out of his fucking league? In the moment, I decided I could only be me and continued to do so for the next two and a half hours.
When we finally parted for the day, he leaned in for a kiss. It was very reminiscent of being kissed on the playground in third grade by the kid who just threw dirt in your face (but he likes you!), but it was sweet.
I expected never to hear from him again.
But I did! He texted me not long after I drove away from the restaurant.
“I had a wonderful time with you. I hope I wasn’t too awkward. You’re beautiful.”
Apparently, my “Like” meter was way off.
Date #2 is scheduled for this weekend. Maybe Tinder isn’t so bad after all.
(But given the name of this blog, let’s assume it will be all down hill from here.)
Dating Is a Dumpster Fire 
Fingers crossed!!!
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