OKCupid Isn’t the Only Dating Site. Introducing: TINDER.

Tinder

I joined Tinder the way hipsters wear glasses without lenses…. super ironic.  Additionally, I don’t do FOMO well…. not going to Coachella or Ultra is enough for one girl to handle.

As I started liking people and getting a 0% ROR, my white girl insecurities kicked in – omg, is this pic not profile worthy, should it be number 3 in the line up?  Suddenly I was like that guy who went to a music festival in a neon hat ironically and next thing you know his Twitter feed is consumed by 140 characters of epic beats….he’s gone, as was I.

I began checking my phone like a coke whore – just give me a fucking match already, can’t sleep, can’t eat – exception: 16 Handles cake batter with cookie dough to mask the pain and provide pro-biotic nutrients, obvs.

I set my radius to 10, which is the least amount of distance (effort) one can enable themselves to travel for Tinder Love – not about to hop the L to for a Kale date in Williamsburg.

Finally, I got a Tinder notification – Pope Francis was a good choice; faith restored.  The notification was the equivalent of receiving a mid day, mid week text from a crush – there’s a high chance he’s sober and meant to send it (yes!).  Like coke to a coke whore it was the only thing that mattered, I was living and breathing Tinning, going into the bathroom at work to refresh, waking up in the middle of the night feigning a match, out at bars, getting other people hooked on the high – which like coke (from what movies tell me) doesn’t last long….need one more bump/one more match to feel good again.  It was the stage a coke whore hits right before checking into rehab, the fun has turned to an addiction – as it was affecting other areas of my life….I was officially Tindicted.

Similar to in person, my standards mirrored my level of intoxication – seems like a good idea until you wake up Tinder matched with Bottle Service Marcus.  This gave morning anxiety a new paint job.

Guys are like Stevie Wonder on this, they don’t even know who they’re yes-ing – more yeses, more chances.  Girls are more like to the left to the left, everyone on Tinder in a box to the left – someone has to do the filtering.  Enter booze, filters off – which is the “logic” behind one night stands, drink until you think it’s a good idea.

I thought lines like “Yo” or “Hey, where you at?” were reserved for 2AM established hook ups.  Like a girl wearing a lace neon bra and sheer top, being on Tinder screamed DTF….like the girl in a neon bra, you were there to be seen, DTT FTW – down to tin – for the win.

I’m chalking up this next part to mid-February boredom and lack of Vitamin D that had my serotonin levels at their yearly low.  I agreed to a coffee date with a tin.  To confirm he wasn’t a serial killer I showed pics of him to my friend who was positioned at the coffee “bar”* to scope him out before I met up (*no booze, so “bar” is a generous term).  She gave him the pass.

Some ESPN highlights of conversation were “Lots of pictures of cats on the internet.”  I never thought I’d be a in a situation where I’d rather hear about the evolution of Dubstep.  What’s there not a lot of pics on the internet of?  I get it, cats are trending right now, but when I responded with “like Grumpy Cat?”  He looked at me like I was crazy – are we looking at the same interwebs?  Grumpy Cat was an SXSW sensation.

We chatted about the college years, I asked if he was in a frat… he wasn’t in a frat – he was in a fraternity.  Sooooo sorry what was your prestigious brotherhood at which you threw theme parties for the purpose of getting girls black out while dressed as Pocahontas?

The play of the day was: “Would you rather be a shark or a butterfly?” Given I’m sporting shark PJs in my prof pic, not totally left field.  But it’s like asking “what would you rather be – someone who’s in total control, can have anything they want at any given moment, that’s so perfect they’re the most unchanged predator since evolution, that all other creatures bow before – or an insect.”

After taking a 20 second time out to get back to neutral and not respond with what’s mentioned above, I politely replied: fly like a butterfly bite like a shark.  He said that’s not possible.  Who doesn’t know Grumpy Cat OR Mohammad Ali. Exactly….a serial killer.

Tinder.  The most overwhelming yet underwhelming dating app created for the ADD ridden – Adderall prescribed, FOMO hating youth of America.  Tinder is made to fill the boredom of cubelife with meaningless banter with people connected by the fact they both liked the Facebook Doritos page.  It’s to be taken as seriously as a guy wearing  puka shells as if they are still (or ever were) a thing.  Tinder is based on the principle of YOLO which seldom leads to a good long term decision, but in the moment…it’s fun, and according to inspirational Pinterest boards, life is about living in the moment….YOLO.

Bio: Melanie Owens …..You are most likely to see her en route to Chipotle or 16 Handles wearing Lululemons with neon work out shoes to fool the masses into thinking she’s being productive on a Sunday.  You can follow her on Twitter, or IRL…whatevs @melowens.  She is no longer on Tinder.

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