It is no secret that I like Tinder.
Yeah, yeah... it is known for being a hook up site, but Match.com, OKCupid, and a bar on Friday night could all be accused of the same thing. In my view, it is the online dating system that comes closet to mimicking the true experience of dating in the real world. And here is why.
Are you ready to have your mind blown?
Tinder is based solely on the ancient technology of proximity and mutual selection.
If those two variables were good enough for Chuck and Chatty Kathy, they are good enough for me.
Charles and Kathy (my parents) didn't sit down and fill out a questionnaire in order to determine if they were compatible. My Dad saw my Mom jump hurtles at track practice and thought "She's cute. I'll ask her out."
BOOM.
Proximity and mutual selection for the win. And forty-two years later, they are still the most happily married people I have ever encountered. Of course there are all those things that make up a happy life together like love, commitment, partnership, support, vacations, promotions, raising a child that was nothing short of a constant delight, paying for college for said delight, building houses, playing golf, picking out plants for the garden, etc.. but in the beginning it was as simple as, "You're cute and you said yes."
And that is basically how Tinder works, instead of calling the girl from track practice at number M9 on the party line, you swipe right because you think the person is cute and the reason they even show up on your Tinder account is because they live within your distance settings.
You don't know how many siblings they have, what they do for work, or where they grew up until you talk to them. You don't know they like to surf, or hate playing paintball, or have a best friend named Jeff who is always their wedding date. For all you know, they are a dog person and you prefer cats, but you end up going on a date anyway because you both love the Sopranos and think the Duke basketball team should be abolished. And guess what, that dog vs. cat issue, it ended up not being such a big deal.
For me, Tinder puts some of the mystery back in online dating that all the other sites pride themselves on eliminating. For some people, getting rid of the mystery is great and finding someone who checks off all these innocuous boxes is exactly what they want. They only want to date dog people, because cat people are obviously terrible. They only want to be in a relationship with someone who wants those traditional gender roles filled, because, hey, a man can't be expected to make his own sandwich in 2014 and heaven forbid a woman dane to have a job outside the home. They only want to date other Methodists, vegetarians, surfers, or yogis.
And that is fine. Perfectly fine.
This is why Tinder is not their jam.
I use online dating to meet people I probably wouldn't because I work long hours, most of my friends are coupled up, and I go places like the yoga studio where it is mostly other women, and I struggle to pick up guys at the driving range because most of them don't like to date a girl they know can beat them at golf. I prefer to let that be a nice surprise later. On Tinder, I know next to nothing about these people other than their age and the fact that they are within 50 miles of where I'm standing at any given moment. And they know next to nothing about me except that I like bourbon and tacos and dancing on boardwalks.
Furthermore, I love that Tinder protects my feelings like the world's best wing-(wo)man. Earlier this week I was completely miffed after two, TWO, different guys sent me questions, and after I responded they hid their profiles from me. That is the really, really great thing about eHarmony, you can see who has hidden your profile. And the message eHarmony sends that says "But this is great news that Mr. GuyWithDog hid from you, because that means you are closer to finding Mr. GuyWithCat." is really very comforting. (That was sarcasm in case it didn't come across in print).
As if it isn't bad enough that they don't send the follow up email to take things to the next communication level, they hide from you.
I had an ex hide from me in Best Buy once.
That made me feel terrible then and this makes me terrible now.
I find myself thinking, There must really be something wrong with me that my answers to 5 little questions encouraged someone to hide their profile from me so I couldn't contact them. Did they not like my response to the gender roles question? In case anyone is wondering I answered that I'd prefer my partner and I define those ourselves. Earth shattering. I know. Could it have been that my answer to the travel question is that my bags are packed and I'm ready to go? Does that make them think I'd just disappear? Maybe they are a homebody? Or maybe they can't fly because they are on the the terrorist watch list. Well, luckily they hid from me. I don't want to date someone who can't fly. Or is a terrorist... Maybe they think I'm going to make them become a vegetarian? UGH! What is so horrible about me that the cute professor and the engineer hid from me?
The rational answer is nothing is wrong with me. And if eHarmony cared about me at all they wouldn't leave those fellas lingering on my matches page, just greyed out, taunting me.
But this is the flaw with Match, OKC, Zoosk, or eHarmony, there is nothing that prevents you from checking a million times to see when they signed in last and wondering what it so wrong with you that they didn't message you back. In the immortal words of Dolly Parton, "It is enough to drive you crazy if you let it!"
This does madness does not happen with Tinder for a variety of reasons.
First, you can only see people who have liked your profile as well. It is mutual. It is like smiling at someone in a bar-- if they smile back, go over and start chatting. If they look away and don't smile back, smile at their friend. All those folks you liked on Tinder who didn't like you back, fade into cyber space never to be heard from again.
Second, messages can only be sent between two people who have selected each other. There is no wondering why SurferGuy22 didn't message me back or wondering how on earth that I answered a question and got paired with Toothless Joe and the Psycho(therapist) who breeds his own fish and refers to them as his creations? #truestory #DrFrankenstein
Finally, the last time I looked to see how many people I had matched with it was upwards of 300. My mom always says she thinks there is more than one person out there for everyone, you just decide to be committed to one person. And after matching with 360 men that I at least can stomach sitting across the table from for dinner, I believe that too.
Realistically, would I be happy with all 360?
Probably not. And certainly not all at once. (A different man for every day of the year? That's alot of dating! Even for me.) But they wouldn't all be happy with me either. I'll be too short, or too bossy, or have too many male friends/books/pairs of shoes and they'll be too insecure about my male friends, be a Wiccan, or something truly dreadful, like a dog person. Just kidding! I like dogs. If they are clean and don't jump or bark and like to hike.
But in all seriousness, I'd prefer find out all those things that make someone "real" on a date, rather than have some "doctor" tell me he's found the cure for my case of the singles, only to find out this "extremely good match" is some doofus throwing up the shocker in his profile picture and raving about his dirt bike.
If he is that into his dirt bike, there will be a picture of the two of them on Tinder, and at which point I'll swipe left.
Ironically, Tinder reminds me of what is possible when you aren't so concerned about finding someone who checks all the boxes and you just open your eyes and look around. It reminds me not to be defeated just because a few guys with puppies didn't like my answers to their stupid questions. After all, the girl dancing on the boardwalk in San Diego who loves bourbon and tacos is going on some pretty great Tinder dates with guys who struck up conversations because she smiled and was close by.
Yeah, yeah... it is known for being a hook up site, but Match.com, OKCupid, and a bar on Friday night could all be accused of the same thing. In my view, it is the online dating system that comes closet to mimicking the true experience of dating in the real world. And here is why.
Are you ready to have your mind blown?
Tinder is based solely on the ancient technology of proximity and mutual selection.
If those two variables were good enough for Chuck and Chatty Kathy, they are good enough for me.
Charles and Kathy (my parents) didn't sit down and fill out a questionnaire in order to determine if they were compatible. My Dad saw my Mom jump hurtles at track practice and thought "She's cute. I'll ask her out."
BOOM.
Proximity and mutual selection for the win. And forty-two years later, they are still the most happily married people I have ever encountered. Of course there are all those things that make up a happy life together like love, commitment, partnership, support, vacations, promotions, raising a child that was nothing short of a constant delight, paying for college for said delight, building houses, playing golf, picking out plants for the garden, etc.. but in the beginning it was as simple as, "You're cute and you said yes."
And that is basically how Tinder works, instead of calling the girl from track practice at number M9 on the party line, you swipe right because you think the person is cute and the reason they even show up on your Tinder account is because they live within your distance settings.
You don't know how many siblings they have, what they do for work, or where they grew up until you talk to them. You don't know they like to surf, or hate playing paintball, or have a best friend named Jeff who is always their wedding date. For all you know, they are a dog person and you prefer cats, but you end up going on a date anyway because you both love the Sopranos and think the Duke basketball team should be abolished. And guess what, that dog vs. cat issue, it ended up not being such a big deal.
For me, Tinder puts some of the mystery back in online dating that all the other sites pride themselves on eliminating. For some people, getting rid of the mystery is great and finding someone who checks off all these innocuous boxes is exactly what they want. They only want to date dog people, because cat people are obviously terrible. They only want to be in a relationship with someone who wants those traditional gender roles filled, because, hey, a man can't be expected to make his own sandwich in 2014 and heaven forbid a woman dane to have a job outside the home. They only want to date other Methodists, vegetarians, surfers, or yogis.
And that is fine. Perfectly fine.
This is why Tinder is not their jam.
I use online dating to meet people I probably wouldn't because I work long hours, most of my friends are coupled up, and I go places like the yoga studio where it is mostly other women, and I struggle to pick up guys at the driving range because most of them don't like to date a girl they know can beat them at golf. I prefer to let that be a nice surprise later. On Tinder, I know next to nothing about these people other than their age and the fact that they are within 50 miles of where I'm standing at any given moment. And they know next to nothing about me except that I like bourbon and tacos and dancing on boardwalks.
Furthermore, I love that Tinder protects my feelings like the world's best wing-(wo)man. Earlier this week I was completely miffed after two, TWO, different guys sent me questions, and after I responded they hid their profiles from me. That is the really, really great thing about eHarmony, you can see who has hidden your profile. And the message eHarmony sends that says "But this is great news that Mr. GuyWithDog hid from you, because that means you are closer to finding Mr. GuyWithCat." is really very comforting. (That was sarcasm in case it didn't come across in print).
As if it isn't bad enough that they don't send the follow up email to take things to the next communication level, they hide from you.
I had an ex hide from me in Best Buy once.
That made me feel terrible then and this makes me terrible now.
I find myself thinking, There must really be something wrong with me that my answers to 5 little questions encouraged someone to hide their profile from me so I couldn't contact them. Did they not like my response to the gender roles question? In case anyone is wondering I answered that I'd prefer my partner and I define those ourselves. Earth shattering. I know. Could it have been that my answer to the travel question is that my bags are packed and I'm ready to go? Does that make them think I'd just disappear? Maybe they are a homebody? Or maybe they can't fly because they are on the the terrorist watch list. Well, luckily they hid from me. I don't want to date someone who can't fly. Or is a terrorist... Maybe they think I'm going to make them become a vegetarian? UGH! What is so horrible about me that the cute professor and the engineer hid from me?
The rational answer is nothing is wrong with me. And if eHarmony cared about me at all they wouldn't leave those fellas lingering on my matches page, just greyed out, taunting me.
But this is the flaw with Match, OKC, Zoosk, or eHarmony, there is nothing that prevents you from checking a million times to see when they signed in last and wondering what it so wrong with you that they didn't message you back. In the immortal words of Dolly Parton, "It is enough to drive you crazy if you let it!"
This does madness does not happen with Tinder for a variety of reasons.
First, you can only see people who have liked your profile as well. It is mutual. It is like smiling at someone in a bar-- if they smile back, go over and start chatting. If they look away and don't smile back, smile at their friend. All those folks you liked on Tinder who didn't like you back, fade into cyber space never to be heard from again.
Second, messages can only be sent between two people who have selected each other. There is no wondering why SurferGuy22 didn't message me back or wondering how on earth that I answered a question and got paired with Toothless Joe and the Psycho(therapist) who breeds his own fish and refers to them as his creations? #truestory #DrFrankenstein
Finally, the last time I looked to see how many people I had matched with it was upwards of 300. My mom always says she thinks there is more than one person out there for everyone, you just decide to be committed to one person. And after matching with 360 men that I at least can stomach sitting across the table from for dinner, I believe that too.
Realistically, would I be happy with all 360?
Probably not. And certainly not all at once. (A different man for every day of the year? That's alot of dating! Even for me.) But they wouldn't all be happy with me either. I'll be too short, or too bossy, or have too many male friends/books/pairs of shoes and they'll be too insecure about my male friends, be a Wiccan, or something truly dreadful, like a dog person. Just kidding! I like dogs. If they are clean and don't jump or bark and like to hike.
But in all seriousness, I'd prefer find out all those things that make someone "real" on a date, rather than have some "doctor" tell me he's found the cure for my case of the singles, only to find out this "extremely good match" is some doofus throwing up the shocker in his profile picture and raving about his dirt bike.
If he is that into his dirt bike, there will be a picture of the two of them on Tinder, and at which point I'll swipe left.
Ironically, Tinder reminds me of what is possible when you aren't so concerned about finding someone who checks all the boxes and you just open your eyes and look around. It reminds me not to be defeated just because a few guys with puppies didn't like my answers to their stupid questions. After all, the girl dancing on the boardwalk in San Diego who loves bourbon and tacos is going on some pretty great Tinder dates with guys who struck up conversations because she smiled and was close by.
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