Here's your place to come talk about sex and love whenever you feel like it.
College Humor recently launched a video titled “Tinderella,” an animated fairytale parody depicting Cinderella if she and her prince met on Tinder. The video ends with the two hooking up and never speaking again. Honestly, I envy anyone who made it to the fleshy phase using the dating app. You are stronger than me.
I’d been single for 32 years, the same amount of time I’d been alive, when I joined Tinder. Unrequited love was all I knew of romance. So, I was determined to learn how to online date. Friends told me it was silly to use the app to find a relationship because it was intended for impromptu coitus. I argued that people use online dating sites to find life partners AND to fulfill their foot fetishes. It’s all what you make of it — plus, I liked having the power of the swipe. Sadly, I didn’t last long on this courtship gizmo. The profile pics alone were more than I could handle. Here’s a brief review of the many photos that made me swipe left:
Charles, 28. 3 miles away (Possibly closer or farther by now): You posed with a baby tiger. Now I’m afraid a giant, wild feline will eat me if I ever go home with you. Instead of planning a date, I’m up watching Discovery Channel’s “Anatomy of a Tiger Bite.” It’s late, I’m alone and now I’m wondering if that massive cat was not a zoo tiger, but your pet and that you two are starring in a sitcom together. I will watch it on TV, but I will not come to a taping. Ever.
Declan, 23, 7 miles away (Maybe 3 if you’re at work): You’ve been photographed at a bar with seven of your male friends, all wearing the same gingham, checkered shirt in different hues. Packs of men are scary to one, lone lady. Especially when they’re all dressed the same. You look like an army of Patrick Batemans from “American Psycho.” I’d bolt my door and grip my J.Crew credit card if I saw you marching down my street, Declan. So, I swiped you and your bros away.
Jason, 23, 5 miles away (Sounds accurate): Is that your baby? Or are you posing with someone else’s child to make yourself look desirable to women? Your only bit of profile information is “That’s my niece.” Thanks for clarifying. So, you’re not a dad. Anything else you want to mention to someone who really wants babies but is waiting for “Star Trek” teleportation technology to become real – both for delivery and conception? I say “no” to natural, water birth, and c-section. My babies will be beamed. Live long and prosper, just not with me.
Fabrizio, 39, 9 miles away (Ugh, Jersey City): You jumped out of an airplane and into the sky. I think they call it SKYDIVING. Now I’m imagining myself as a 32-year-old widow. Another fear-based reaction. I’m sorry, sugar cakes, but I’m about as intrepid as it gets when it comes to taking life-threatening risks.
Brandon, 31, 10 miles away (Do you live in the desert or were you just photographed there?): You rode an ostrich. I’m a germaphobe. Enough said.
Kevin, 30, 2 miles away (Did we just make eye contact on the subway?): All four of your identifying images feature you holding a beer. I mean there’s more to life than alcoholism right? There’s HuluPlus, and not doing your laundry for two months and lots of places that deliver dessert. Thank you, Seamless. No thank you, Kevin.
Michael, 27, 4 miles away (Healthy distance, sorry I never came over): There is a woman on your left arm, and another on your right. All of your limbs are bare. And the ladies do not appear to be family members.Maybe cousins. Let me put it this way: one time I considered watching “Sister Wives,” but I didn’t because it’s just that, um, I want to be the only one! I watched the “Highlander” instead.
Ryan, 24, 6 miles away (I smell a subway transfer): Your pics represent all the cities you’ve lived: New York, LA, Rio De Janeiro and Barcelona. Gosh, I’m really looking for some stability on this hookup app. Uprooting just reminds me of my childhood. My dad was in the army and moved around a lot. I didn’t go with him because moving seemed like a waste of time when there were six seasons of “Adventures of the Gummi Bears” to attend to.
Jordan, 35, too much math to determine distance (You are fictional and represent an amalgam of castoffs): I just want to know, because I’m scared of germs, if you washed your hands after you posed with the parrot, giraffe, sea bass, Irish Wolfhound, Maryland crab, rifle, camel, elephant, rifle (AGAIN), cat, pistol, horse and giant teddy bear, respectively. I need to know if you’re using those filthy fingers to scroll through profiles. You don’t have antiseptic pads on you at all times, do you? I can see it in your eyes and in the eyes of the animal you’re so proudly posing with. What if my battery dies and I need to borrow your phone? I’ve got to pay my electric bill, but I could kick the bucket from a terror spiral. I can’t risk it. Goodbye, all my potential princes. Goodbye.
Reprinted with permission from The Frisky. Want more?