Tinder. It’s like real life, but better. Sort of. Maybe. Not really. After hearing a collection of friends rant about their hilarious (and cringe-worthy) experiences, I decided I couldn’t allow my judgement to hold me back any longer. Why not download an app with the stigma of being for hookups only? Who knows, maybe I can find someone to binge-watch Narcos with.
Or end up staring at the screen dumbfounded.
I’ll be upfront: I do not like Tinder, but I don’t hate it, either. The app is genius for mingling with singles -- it’s like a grocery store of people to choose from. And that’s what makes it a little weird. Here’s why:
Flaunt it, or else.
Your Tinder profile is like highlighting the most likable parts of yourself in one place. Time to select all the best selfies you’ve ever taken, maybe add a few adventurous shots or a silly one (personal favorites) to add some personality. Hook them with your face, then make 'em stay with a golden biography. I have read some of the most honest and straightforward bios on this app, and they are masterpieces. Others are too lengthy or don’t exist at all. Some are… Well, take a look at these examples.
I love the internet. Anyways, welcome to the three B's of the Tinder world for a woman:
Beer, Butts, and Buds.
After a hundred or so swipes, I witnessed more bare behinds than I ever wanted. What was even more amazing is that none of the pictures were provocative; from candid moments to climbing a mountain nude, I never realized men could be so creative with nude photography. The cherry on top is that none of them mention anything in their bios like no big deal. Then there are selfies with beer, of course, and all their buddies (which one is he?). Or they mention how much they are smoker-friendly. If you’re lucky, you can find a few gems with all three.
To meet or not to meet, that is the question.
Matching with someone, when two people both swipe right (I like you) on each other, can be exciting and boring all at the same time. After I matched, I usually sent the first message, and the conversations were good. Some were funny, others were OK. I love talking about the weather. But both sides of the chat never pointed to the big step: meeting in person. Soon, it gets difficult to view all these matches as real people. I've never seen them with my own eyes; they're just a name with a few pictures that talks back. See how that can be a bit weird?
The moral dilemma.
Like I mentioned before, this app is a lot like a grocery store. You're spending a majority of time judging a person on their appearance and what they can offer. This is the main complaint I have with Tinder, but also have to give it a round of applause. It has taken the ugly truth of how attraction is the most valued character of a person when it comes to our society. There's nothing wrong with attraction in general -- it's essential for a relationship -- but Tinder will force you to realize that yes, you do have a type, and no, you don't think every person is equally attractive.
Tinder advertises itself to be more than just a ‘hook-up’ app. It also wants to be known as a ‘social discovery platform,’ and it tries to do this with the “Going Out” feature, where groups of people can plan to meet up. If you’re interested in finding some new people to become friends with, this app is great. It’ll help you narrow down the people around you who want the same thing.
But for relationships, it can be a bit strange. Everyone makes jokes about how a decade from now, people will get to say “I met my husband/wife on Tinder,” or “Mom met Dad on Tinder.” Depending on who you are, this may not be a bother. But for me, I’ll stick to the old fashion way of walking up to a person of interest and saying hello.
