My sweet little darlings, life has been, well, interesting, and challenging lately.
I have had a barrage of well-intended advice, assistance, and even passive aggressive jabs to my self-esteem by friends who find it their duty to point out my weak areas. …and you thought I didn’t notice …Thank you. That’s just what I need.
Anyway, a gal must do what a gal must do. I’ve found late night and middle-of-the-night-can’t-sleep-refuge in cheesy Nora Roberts novels and my Tinder APP.
You can go get yourself a Nora Roberts novel if you like, but I’m going to go ahead and give you my Tinder review.
The best way to do that, is to encourage you, my very dear readers, to sit back, and allow me to paint a mental picture for you using words to describe actual Tinder matches who are waiting for me, even now, as I type this.
*** I have changed the names to protect the identity of these fine men***
First photo is of a gentleman sprawled shirtless in the back of a fishing boat. Moderate light brown/reddish chest hair and a ball cap. He has an ‘inney’ belly button. It’s just wrong that I know that. The following photos involve landscapes and a dog eating something in the garden. My apologies Matthew. Good luck on the water. Left swipe.
Very impressive opener; a professional photo of himself with a well-groomed patch of facial hair. Nice teeth, bald, 40 years old. What about photo number 2? Luke is speaking at a conference wearing a very delicate, white side-mic. Interesting. Let’s move on to photo number 3 shall we ladies? Ah yes, Luke in stages. Luke is shirtless with his arms around an electric blue and a neon green mannequin. Photo #4 Luke in full body spandex wearing a Santa hat. If it makes it seem less weird, he appears to be at a water sport event with other people wearing similar gear. I’m not so sure about you Luke. But I’ll swipe right, what the heck.
Mark is 40 and has chosen to include a child (I’m assuming his) in his photo. No one wants to see pictures of kids on here. Three more photos of Mark smiling. Kinda cute. I’m sold; swipe right.
John has a beautiful cover photo, clearly a selfie, but well executed and no evidence of being in the powder room or car. Bravo John. Followed by 3 photos of John in combat gear with a paintball gun. John is also 109 ladies, or so it says. Sorry John, have fun playing in the woods. Left swipe.
Tony has only one photo. He’s wearing a New York Yankees cap and is at the ball park. Not a selfie, which means he either has friends, or isn’t shy to ask someone to take his photo. The only problem is that the only thing more annoying than the New York Yankees is a New York Yankees fan. But, he likes baseball, has a cute smile, and I like to banter with other baseball fans. You get a right swipe Tony, but if this works out, your closet will no longer contain Yankee Blue.
Initial photo; sitting on the back of a boat at sunset, beige shorts, navy top with a plastic cup in hand. Next three photos are gymish pictures of Mitchell. I think his nipples are actually bigger than mine, and that’s saying something. Next photo, Mitchell with a child. Meh, sorry Mitchell, I can’t compete with the nipples. Left swipe.
First photo looks like he’s a mouth-breather. You know what I mean right? The kind of person who just wakes up stunned every day. Followed by more pictures of him looking bewildered. He has taken time to write an extensive profile for Tinder (more than a sentence), and is looking for ‘phenomenally honest conversation’. Usually code for “I’m still searching for the meaning of life and find it impossible to keep my trap shut about people’s negative qualities”. Sorry Bobby, you’re going to have to continue to wonder. Keep the faith brother. Left swipe.
I bet he liked the ‘Where’s Waldo’ books when he was a kid. Why? Because his photo is of himself with five other guys. Dude, if I had time to guess who the hell you are, I would be out there on real dates with real men, not douching-out on some voyeuristic, shallow APP. Clean up your act Brian. Swipe left.
Carlo, at 43 years old is clearly an athlete. His opener is a photo of what looks like a man, on a jetski. Nice silhouette, but I can’t see you Carlo. This is the only photo. Alas, you are too much a mystery man for me tiger. Left swipe.
Oh David, how could we not love you? All of you. David is sticking his tongue out, and giving us the devil’s horn hand gesture. He’s no half-asser my friends. Nope, because he’s giving it to us with not one, but both hands. Followed by a photo with a lizard and a very intense eyeball shot. Despite your baby blues, I’m gonna have to go left on this one. You’re too much of a man for me David. Bon soir.
Duke’s mugshot. Duke a thousand and twelve years ago with long hair. Duke in a cowboy hat. Duke’s foot (WTF?). Too Salvador Dali for me. Left swipe. Good luck partner.
Distinguished, black tie photo. Salt and pepper hair. I’m thinking right swipe automatically. We did not need to see the picture of the drunken monkey or the puppy, but you’re cute and age appropriate. Right swipe for you my darling.
Nathan has flowing golden locks, pierced eyebrows and plays the drums. Plays the drums. Plays the drums some more. He also feeds small kangaroos at the local petting zoo. Not everyone’s flavor of the month, but I’m sure there’s someone out there for him. Likely the nicest guy in the world and an acquired taste. I have enough acquired tastes however. So, it’s a left swipe for me. Rock on Nathan, rock on.
As I wrote this, I have to say I’m a little disappointed that no middle-eastern guys popped up with their dark facial hair and speedos, ’cause let’s face it, we all need a laugh ladies, and a reason to reflect on how damn lucky we are that we don’t have to deal with that mess.
Tinder has not been the clear dating pool that it’s made out to be, however I have been asked to meet someone at a Comfort Inn for the evening. Um, the Comfort Inn? Sweetie, you are very, very, very sad. The great thing with Tinder is you don’t have to give a polite, “No thank you”, while thinking, ‘Seriously bozo, a Comfort Inn’? You can just press block, and they disappear.
So, for Rick who just popped up as a match (whom, I will likely never communicate with or go out with because other than hook-up attempts, no-one really communicates), go ahead text me something interesting, show me your communication chops. You like Willie Nelson and coffee after all, how bad could it be?
Tinder, the shallowest of the shallow ways to meet someone. More realistically, a great way for writers to find a spring-board into character creation. It’s like having a wall of greeting cards at your finger tips to peruse, giggle at, and cause you reflect on the general state of society.
Thank you for indulging me my dear readers. Now it’s time for some serious work….