Everyone knows about tinder. Whether you’re convinced that love conquers all worldly woes (preach) or paying for the divine power of swiping algorithms, most of us have used it or know someone who has. It’s the holy grail of online dating apps. It’s easy, it’s free and best of all, there’s a marginally lower level of creeps drifting about because it’s so mainstream.
Now there are those who believe that using tinder is embarrassing. That two people should meet ‘organically’ (shout out to the vegans), even if it takes months or years. Now it’s important to allow everyone to express their opinions but it’s worth mentioning that these people also tend to be the ones harping on about ‘fate’ and ‘destiny’, which is barely a step above believing in star signs.
I am of the opinion that destiny is trash and that waiting for the fabled ‘chosen one’ to appear into your otherwise mundane life is naive. Why? It’s faster than fate. I get frustrated at people who walk slowly on the street. I walk up six flights of stairs every morning because I can’t bear to wait for the lift. My view on finding a suitable partner, surprise surprise, is no different. This aimless waiting around for an ‘organic’ romance to blossom is just totally inefficient. Why would I wait around when I could use an app on my phone to connect with others instantaneously?
I suppose this is the basis of how ‘The Tinder Games’ originated for me. That’s a fun little name I’ve given to my serial dating periods. I open up tinder, swipe right on anyone even remotely passable (teeth and hygiene are overrated, right guys?) and hey presto within a day I’m having conversations with about a dozen men. Let the games begin. Now for any of you who aren’t completely familiar with tinder; everyone does this. I’m probably just more honest about it (dignity is overrated).
Very quickly the weaker matches are lost into the tinder abyss. usually when I realise they can’t differentiate between ‘their’, ‘there’ and ‘they’re’
leaving the ones that I seemingly get along with ready for round two, by far the most entertaining aspect of the games.
This next part may sound horrendous but remember, it’s only logical that you waste no time in finding your perfect match. So, I organise to go on approximately six dates with six different guys in six days. It’s the best method of rapidly deciding whether any of the players are potential winners.
This week is always a hectic week of pre-date nerves (unless your investment in Jacob the unemployed codeine addict is very low), boring (or terrifying) conversations and by the end of it, you’ll almost certainly find yourself questioning how your judgement could possibly have been so poor. To destroy any shred of dignity I have left, I’ll let you guys in on one of my most memorable dates, where the guy in question told me my eyebrows were thin, that I couldn’t pull off chinos because I wasn’t attractive enough and told me that a breakout on my chin made me look like I had herpes. You’d think I’d have gauged his horrendous personality online but apparently my judge of character is even less accurate than my essay referencing. So naturally, I did the dignified thing and left. Before subsequently agreeing to another two dates until I finally suggested on date three that our personalities “just don’t mesh.” In my defence; I had a lot of free time and it was a very boring summer.
Anyhow, the remaining surviving candidates (if any survive the dreaded first coffee date) move onto the third and final round. This is composed of a variety of complex social situations to ensure that if they did end up becoming my significant other, that we would be successful. So if you’ve ever found yourself in that elusive final stage, then you’ve most likely sat through a horror movie (if you don’t hold their hand it’s over), had the cheekiest of Nando’s (don’t judge their super grain salad it is a delight) and probably been forced into drinking an entire bottle of wine (Aldi’s finest for four euro).
Then comes the moment. One of three things happen. It fizzles out, someone gets ghosted harder than Caspar or, maybe, just maybe, you become official. Unless of course you use tinder to have vapid hook-ups; in that case just ignore everything I’ve just spent the last five paragraphs discussing. But before you argue over the low success rate of these candidates, remember – there’s always more people waiting in that app, desperate to enter into the next Tinder Games.
I have no problem admitting that I have tinder and that I go on a plethora of horrendous dates. I think tinder is a beautiful invention with the potential to bring people together beyond simply a geographical convenience (secondary school romances am I right). So, if you’ve been debating whether or not to take the plunge into the world of rapid swiping, then take my advice and go for it. Worst case scenario, you have a great story to tell to your squad about a guy insisting your sweaty nosed self can’t wear chinos.
Happy swiping and may the matches be ever in your favour.
