Wait for it.
Wait for it...
I'm on Tinder.
Say what you want about Tinder, and the hook up culture that not only spawned it, but loves and fuels it, it cuts out a lot of the BS that online dating involves.
For those of you living under a rock and unfamiliar with Tinder, telling you it's the heterosexual version of Grinder probably doesn't help. Tinder employs the ancient technology of thinking someone is cute and being in the same place.
It's basically a bar on a Friday night that allows you to save face if you get rejected.
If you see a photo you like, you swipe right, and if the picture you swiped right on also swiped right on you, then you match. And at that point, message one another.
Otherwise, all those rejects that suffered a swipe left disappear into cyber space. And you can't see those folks you swiped right on that didn't reciprocate.
No more wondering why Joe-Smoe didn't message you after you sent him a smile or why that hot guy holding the puppy didn't message you after looking at your profile.
Does he not like cats, and only likes dogs? Do I look fat in my pictures? Maybe he doesn't like females with more education than he has? Should I take down that comment about loving the Golden Girls?
It can become maddening.
There is no science behind Tinder. There is no Doctor claiming a superior quality of matches because of the litany of questions you've been forced to answer.
It is all based on proximity and mutual selection.
I'm no longer forced to wade through profiles where Joe, Billy, Tim, Stephen and George to tell me what books they would take to a deserted island and whether or not they prefer elephants to horses. Most of this is garbage that doesn't tell me one real snit about the person.
AND I'm definitely checking out the pictures before I read a single sentence on their profile.
Call me superficial. Call me shallow. But tell me I'm wrong when I claim that in order for a relationship to even get legs, there must as least be a baseline attraction.
Is this superficial? Yes, absolutely.
But it's no more superficial than deciding who you're going to sit down beside at a bar. You like something about the how that person looks, be it their smile, their eyes, or their t-shirt.
And Tinder cuts out all that other BS. I swipe left and send BillyBob into cyberspace exile. Or I swipe right and if Mr. Might-Be-Right has also swiped right it's a match! 90% of my "matches" I never even message, but of these ones I have messaged, and proceeded to go out with I've been pleasantly surprise.
I've met writers, professors, former Marines, entrepreneurs, artists, and engineers.
And I've never been disappointed.
Until last night.
Now, I've had many thoughts about my various dates over the course of my single life.
Some thoughts much more charitable than others...
He's more handsome in person than his pictures online.
Those pictures were taken 5 years and 30 pounds ago.
He should grow his beard back like he had in that one picture. I like beards.
He's had some interesting life experiences.
He seems like he has his life figured out.
His job sounds really complex, he must be smart.
He seems like the worst person on the planet. No wonder he is single.
He seems great! Why is he single...?
But I have never in my life thought "I'm too good for this person who just bought me a drink/ a coffee/ a cupcake."
Until last night.
As Ted and I sat in the coffee shop and I pondered just how old his pictures were and how many pounds he'd put on since they were taken he regaled me with these gems:
Insurance, renter's or otherwise, is something for which any adult should at least possess a frame of reference. Why don't you know what renters insurance is? I know you don't own your home, and that you rent, so presumably you should have lived somewhere that required renter's insurance at some point.
Please, don't tell me that Japanese is so beautiful that you don't want to butcher it, so you didn't learn any while you lived in Japan for two years. If you've ever been on a crowded subway, or trapped in a room of 30 Junior High School students, you know Japanese, like anyway language, isn't always beautiful. And to not want to look ridiculous? Give me a break. If you ever want to learn anything new, you have to be willing to sound/look/be ridiculous. At least for awhile.
And if my grandparents lived 15 minutes away I wouldn't go 8 days, let alone 8 years between visits. Don't tell me you're close with your family, and then tell me that.
I guess the bottom line is that I'm in a very different place in my life than I was 2 years ago when I started this blog. I know what I want in a relationship. In a partner. In the person with whom I choose to build my life. Ted was so far from being that person that I couldn't stand it.
He isn't a bad person. He's not unattractive, mean, or rude.
He's just foolish and his values are misplaced.
I know who I am. I know what I want. And I go see my grandparents.
That makes me too good for him.
Wait for it...
I'm on Tinder.
Say what you want about Tinder, and the hook up culture that not only spawned it, but loves and fuels it, it cuts out a lot of the BS that online dating involves.
It's basically a bar on a Friday night that allows you to save face if you get rejected.
If you see a photo you like, you swipe right, and if the picture you swiped right on also swiped right on you, then you match. And at that point, message one another.
Otherwise, all those rejects that suffered a swipe left disappear into cyber space. And you can't see those folks you swiped right on that didn't reciprocate.
No more wondering why Joe-Smoe didn't message you after you sent him a smile or why that hot guy holding the puppy didn't message you after looking at your profile.
Does he not like cats, and only likes dogs? Do I look fat in my pictures? Maybe he doesn't like females with more education than he has? Should I take down that comment about loving the Golden Girls?
It can become maddening.
There is no science behind Tinder. There is no Doctor claiming a superior quality of matches because of the litany of questions you've been forced to answer.
It is all based on proximity and mutual selection.
I'm no longer forced to wade through profiles where Joe, Billy, Tim, Stephen and George to tell me what books they would take to a deserted island and whether or not they prefer elephants to horses. Most of this is garbage that doesn't tell me one real snit about the person.
AND I'm definitely checking out the pictures before I read a single sentence on their profile.
Call me superficial. Call me shallow. But tell me I'm wrong when I claim that in order for a relationship to even get legs, there must as least be a baseline attraction.
Is this superficial? Yes, absolutely.
But it's no more superficial than deciding who you're going to sit down beside at a bar. You like something about the how that person looks, be it their smile, their eyes, or their t-shirt.
And Tinder cuts out all that other BS. I swipe left and send BillyBob into cyberspace exile. Or I swipe right and if Mr. Might-Be-Right has also swiped right it's a match! 90% of my "matches" I never even message, but of these ones I have messaged, and proceeded to go out with I've been pleasantly surprise.
I've met writers, professors, former Marines, entrepreneurs, artists, and engineers.
And I've never been disappointed.
Until last night.
Now, I've had many thoughts about my various dates over the course of my single life.
Some thoughts much more charitable than others...
He's more handsome in person than his pictures online.
Those pictures were taken 5 years and 30 pounds ago.
He should grow his beard back like he had in that one picture. I like beards.
He's had some interesting life experiences.
He seems like he has his life figured out.
His job sounds really complex, he must be smart.
He seems like the worst person on the planet. No wonder he is single.
He seems great! Why is he single...?
But I have never in my life thought "I'm too good for this person who just bought me a drink/ a coffee/ a cupcake."
Until last night.
As Ted and I sat in the coffee shop and I pondered just how old his pictures were and how many pounds he'd put on since they were taken he regaled me with these gems:
- He didn't know that renter's insurance existed, and was stunned to learn that his bicycle would have been covered by it.
- His perspective on foreign language is that "They can have their Japanese/Spanish/French and I'll keep my English because I don't want sound ridiculous."
- His grandparents live 15 minutes from him and he hasn't seen them since 2006
Insurance, renter's or otherwise, is something for which any adult should at least possess a frame of reference. Why don't you know what renters insurance is? I know you don't own your home, and that you rent, so presumably you should have lived somewhere that required renter's insurance at some point.
Please, don't tell me that Japanese is so beautiful that you don't want to butcher it, so you didn't learn any while you lived in Japan for two years. If you've ever been on a crowded subway, or trapped in a room of 30 Junior High School students, you know Japanese, like anyway language, isn't always beautiful. And to not want to look ridiculous? Give me a break. If you ever want to learn anything new, you have to be willing to sound/look/be ridiculous. At least for awhile.
And if my grandparents lived 15 minutes away I wouldn't go 8 days, let alone 8 years between visits. Don't tell me you're close with your family, and then tell me that.
I guess the bottom line is that I'm in a very different place in my life than I was 2 years ago when I started this blog. I know what I want in a relationship. In a partner. In the person with whom I choose to build my life. Ted was so far from being that person that I couldn't stand it.
He isn't a bad person. He's not unattractive, mean, or rude.
He's just foolish and his values are misplaced.
I know who I am. I know what I want. And I go see my grandparents.
That makes me too good for him.
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