Outside of the 2016 Olympic Village, I don't have any long term aspirations to find love through an app. I have other avenues for that - like bars, blogging, and beer-cart girls.
But yesterday's Man Repeller piece The Pros and Cons of Swiping Left got me thinking. While I really want to rhetorically analyze this piece for old time's sake (see: here or here), I'm going to save that for another column at another time on another day. Right now I've got a fever for Tinder and the only prescription is more Tinder.
After going through the pros and cons (concerning serial killers, looking for sex vs. relationship, catfishing, yadda yadda yadda), I asked myself, "Why am I even on Tinder?"
Well, my initial reaction was that it's pure entertainment. It's fun to meet girls at bars while not actually having to run up a tab, buy them drinks, and wonder what happened when I go home alone. It's casual enough to where it just simply doesn't matter what happens, but it's an open book that leaves open the possibility of being the 21st-century, real-life version of You've Got Mail.
But, because of the geographic aspect to Tinder, it's also entirely possible that you can see someone that's been all over your future-girlfriend radar for months but you haven't been able to get over the hump with (pun kind of intended but only because "hump" is underused these days). I mean, there are certain girls I always swipe right on: people I know (with hopes of an uncomfortable future encounter), black girls (because it's the only race I haven't matched with yet and 100% diversity is a mountain I need to climb because I've managed to go to live in the whitest town ever with the whitest group of friends ever), and girls that are fans of Kid Rock (duh). But while sifting through the shit, what if I finally sink that proverbial battleship that's been sailing in my harbor? Hopeless romantic shit, homeboy. Learn it. Live it. Love it.
While all that sounds pretty gravy, a girl once lead a conversation with me by explaining that she was down because she just got back from her grandma's funeral. And not to be a prick, but aren't these the type of things you handle with your friends and not some dude you "met" on a dating app? I'm not Chaz from Wedding Crashers. But, actually... was that my opening? No no. I'm here to get You've-Got-Mail'd, not A-Walk-To-Remember'd. Get real life out of my face and proceed with your textual healing elsewhere.
Tinder leaves open the "So you're tellin' me there's a chance" possibility while also simultaneously letting me people watch and distract my easily-distracted brain. And that's enough for me.