I wish I could remember exactly why I signed up for Tinder in the first place. Thinking back, I’m sure it had something to do with a “Sex and the City” and junk food binge. Regardless, I spent a few weeks swiping through potential soul mates and decided it just wasn’t practical. It was harder to connect with internet strangers than I thought it would be.
Long story short, I got bored and deleted the application from my phone. Fast forward two months to last Saturday at The Rave. While standing in the audience to see Modern Baseball, I turned around and recognized someone from my online-dating past life.
Maybe the universe was telling me something, maybe this was fate.
Just kidding. This isn’t a story about waiting patiently for love and finally finding it at a pop-punk show at the Eagles Ballroom. This is a story about the exact opposite, actually. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened with the expired Tinder match.
It did, however, inspire me to re-download the matchmaking software, which then inspired my roommate to do the same. At 20 and 21 years old, it’s hard to imagine how we will ever find love. By “Little House on the Prairie” standards, we’re already spinsters.
What followed was two days of internet strangers validating our existences, and reactive self-loathing for needing the validation in the first place.
In an attempt to save the souls of anyone who may have been considering downloading Tinder, I’ve recorded the real-life testimonies of two current users (my roommate and myself) who are ultimately unsatisfied with the experience.
The first thought we shared out loud was, “Why are these people on Tinder? There has to be something wrong with them.”
Oh wait, we are on Tinder.
Another noticeably sketchy trend: It’s difficult to trust any of the pictures people use for their profiles. I’ve taken plenty of selfies. I know how to fake a “good angle.” There’s a reason Instagram has only ever seen the left side of my face. Maybe this app would be more realistic if people would stop trying to put forth their best self and instead put forth their true selves.
Tinder is intrinsically shallow. But then again, maybe so am I. It’s really hard to swipe right when I’m not 100 percent certain the potential match is taller than I am.
Really, this app just reminds me that we live in a painful “hook-up culture.” I want someone to ask me my middle name, not my Snapchat name.
On the other hand, I wish people would stop pretending Tinder can form long-term relationships. Can’t we just keep things casual?
One of the features offered by Tinder is the ability to choose the age range of potential matches. My roommate, for whatever reason, refuses to lower the age range, so she keeps getting matched with 35-year-olds who, for whatever reason, refuse to raise their age range.
Tinder isn’t all bad. The newest feature allows users to connect their Spotify accounts. And it’s really encouraging to see that adult men actually do love Justin Bieber.
I’m still waiting for that one special “match,” but maybe fairytales do come true, and maybe Tinder can pave the way for a love pure enough to overcome the awkward first “Hey” message.
