I have a friend who I will call Viking Princess, because she is just that: tall, beautiful, smart, funny etc. She is on Tinder, and has been “talking to” a lot of people.
“Talking to” in today’s terms, is not what those of us who grew up in the 1970’s and 80’s are used to. For my high-school students, “Talking to” means you are in the beginning stages of a relationship, no commitment, but usually this includes some type of hooking up. In terms of online dating, it usually means text-ing, first on the dating site, then if you feel comfortable, you exchange numbers and “really”text. Note the subtle upgrade in closeness! You actually are trusting that someone is not going to blow up your phone, and I do have a story about that, too. There is no face to face, no actual date involved in “talking”. That is a whole other level of commitment.
Several of my guy friends expressed dismay that I was on this site. “That’s a (word that means hookup) site!”, a close friend of mine advised me. “Why do you want to do THAT?”
Well, I really don’t. But in reality, my choices are limited: I hang out with the same people, most of whom are in relationships and if they are not, they are my guy friends and not really datable. I am a teacher, wow, huge dating pool there. I never have one of those cutesy encounters so often featured in RomComs. And since I like to keep with the trends, why not try this?
Viking Princess warned me, “it’s very shallow. Totally based on physical attraction.” And she was right. The profiles, if any, are minimal. There are a couple of pictures, but most of the time you don’t even get that far. Your “matches”, based on criteria that you set, come up on your phone screen. Swipe right, you “like” them; swipe left, they are toast, sent to the Tinder recycling bin in the clouds. After all, one woman’s trash is another woman’s treasure, right?
So I made a profile, found some decent, recent pictures, and hoped for the best. The thing about Tinder is, you have to have a “mutual” attraction for a “conversation” to happen. Now this is fine for Viking Princess , she is young and gorgeous. I am okay, but the number of “age appropriate” people on Tinder is relatively low, secondly, I don’t really think I have that much “instant attraction” power. (Note to any over 40, potential Tinder-posting guys who might read for some DON’Ts … NO shirtless pictures, you are either a narcissist, or gay, if you have a good body, and if your body is not so good, you are a total freak! I have seen more people in need of Seinfeld’s famous “manzeer” than I care to count. NO motorcycle pics unless you and your bike are HOT. The whole biker thing doesn’t impress me, but I know that lots of women are into it, BUT you are not Jax Teller on your wide-body bike with the sidecar. NO “stuff” pics…I am not impressed by you in front of your fancy car, house, etc. And a caution, I am NOT fooled by your “cozy-ing up to my dog” picture…everyone knows all women over 40 love dogs more than men, so you are using the dog as bait, and it is probably not even your dog.)
I thought my profile was decent, however it proved to be a little humiliating at first. Here’s Viking Princess swiping away, with dozens of matches, mine were in the SINGLE DIGITS!!! Finally, a mutual match that looked ok, if not promising! Now, a word on attraction. What makes people want to have (sex) uhm, I mean, a relationship with someone else? Also, to get really existential: what do people really want? There is a whole subtext here, definitely not defined by what (most) people say that they are after. And, according to most, the subtext of this app is that people want a quick hook up.
So, my “match”. Nice face, very nice body; the kind of physique that I find intimidating: total gym rat. Obligatory tribal tattoo on arm.in shirtless boat picture, of course. (As one witty friend remarked, “suns out, guns out!”) Although I do work out regularly, I am soooo not a hardbody. I am 50. I like food, and alcohol. And I work out to feel better, and yes, of course, to tame the Mommy pooch as much as possible. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes, it’s not. So, I was rather intimidated by this guy’s frame. I have never been with someone in that kind of shape; but I thought it wouldn’t be a bad thing, exactly.
The messaging started, then the text-ing on our “real” numbers, a major advancement in Tinder World. Then, some actual phone conversations. He seemed nice, maybe not the most intellectually stimulating conversation in the world, but let’s face it, David Foster Wallace doesn’t usually come packaged like David Beckham. Win some, lose some. And I thought, this time, this ONE time, I am just going to roll with this; not over-analyze, not judge, just see if I can go on a date, without making it a big deal.
So a few days, many texts, and a few conversations later, we met for lunch. We met at the Green Turtle, a chain restaurant known for decent pub food,and more importantly, your “own” personalized mug that you rent or lease or something..it has your number on it and you use it when you go there. We met in the parking lot, and when he got out of his car, the first thing I noticed was that he was not that tall. Now, this is not a problem; as long as you are not like husband #2. However, in this case, he was really muscular, steroid-looking muscular, accentuated by the (very) tight shirt, that, of course had short sleeves. In December. Okay, I told myself, none of these are bad things; maybe not what I am used to but he was certainly not unattractive. However, as we walked in, I thought I detected some air of disappointment on his part. What was it? I think I look like my picture. I tried to dress Cute/casual/basic white girl chic/as neutral as possible. I thought I looked ok. We sat at the bar. Ordered a beer, got menus. I felt really awkward.
Across the bar were two older gentlemen, drinking out of their Green Turtle mugs.One of the men had a really pimped-out mug, with a Raven’s decal on it. I commented on that, and we chit chatted across the bar; he said his wife had gotten it for him, etc. Total conversation time, two minutes. When I turned back to Muscleman, he had a really pissed off look on his face! I could only infer that he was mad I was not focused on him. Well, that coupled with the lack of instant attraction equaled one thing: date over! We went through the motions of a quick meal. He talked about the O’s…..I mean, a LOT about the O’s; and I like baseball,but this was on a whole other level. Then, he talked about…wait for it….THE GYM; another really scintillating subject. I don’t know what I talked about, I just knew I wanted to get the hell out of there! Forty mind-numbing minutes later it was over. We said good-bye, and went our separate ways.
Was it a horrible experience? Not at all. It just made me realize why I don’t like dating….all the anxiety beforehand, mixed with the anticipation of possibility, that this person might be THE ONE, mixed with more anxiety about how I am not sure I am even ready to meet THE ONE. It’s pretty much an existential nightmare. And as for the date itself, I am glad that interchange with the Raven’s mug guy happened. Because I am a talker. To pretty much anyone. I can go to a bar by myself, hell, I can go anywhere by myself and I will end up having a conversation with someone. And that is one thing that is not going to change about me. Sooo …on to the next!!!
NEXT: Helpful Hints For Your User ID and Profile:an Open Letter to “Razor’s Edge”….
50 Tindering Fishes 