Tinder is the new dating app that cuts to the chase, giving no details or history, just a picture and the ultimate question: “Do you wanna do me?”
The rules are simple, you scroll through pictures of the opposite sex in your area and swipe right to like or swipe left to dispose. If two members both ‘like’ each other, they match and they can chat.
When I first heard about this I was a little disapproving. I questioned the ethics behind the process. I didn’t like the idea of a dating exchange that was based entirely on vanity.
The truth is though, people want to be liked and that is exactly what Tinder offers – on a very basic level. After putting my self-righteousness aside however, I started to check Tinder out and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Some of the stories are hilarious. Last night my friend told me that she accidently liked a guy she didn’t fancy. He immediately started to chat her up saying: “Oh I thought the app was broken because I hadn’t had any matches. But then you came along beautiful.” Yes indeed, way to be cool man.
My friend compares Tinder to a fast food fix: easy, addictive and entirely unsatisfying. Great, the dating site equivalent to McDonalds. What are you waiting for? But then again, maybe you don’t want a French gourmet meal. Maybe sometimes you just want to plough into a greasy Big-Mac.
Sold yet? No? Well wait there’s more. The app not only allows people to look for casual sex without going out and getting pissed, but it’s also a useful tool for self gratification – or lack there of. My friend admits to me that it makes her feel good when she gets liked on Tinder. And why wouldn’t it? It’s essentially the same as someone at a bar saying: “You’re fit. I wanna be on you.”
Having said that, not all users have experienced these heart-warming moments through Tinder. Scrolling through comments about the app online I came across a guy complaining about how he hadn’t had any matches, that he felt pathetic and that he hated his life. So I’m thinking if you’re a sensitive soul, Tinder might not be for you.
The other night I was out with some friends and Tinder came into play. One of my mates who recently came out of a nine-year relationship has signed up, hoping for some casual sex with no strings attached.
Now, let me tell you, a night of beer and Tinder has its stages. First, as a group we had to approve his profile pictures. This did involve a bit of rearranging, as his initial choices were questionable. The half naked picture of him in a cowboy hat with a suggestive smile had to go. Creepy is not chic man – it’s just creepy.
Next came the part of approving his potential playmates. This involved more deliberation as divisions were made in the pack. Arguing ranged from harmless blonde or brunette preferences to outright objectification: “Bin her!” Nice.
As the night went on I noticed that my friend had fallen rather quiet. He hadn’t yet had a match and inevitably his self-esteem was shrinking.
We took his mind off it by scrolling through pictures of more young women. As more beer was consumed and less matches were made one might say that standards were lowered. Ring any bells guys?
Finally at the last bar, our friend rose triumphantly, arms thrown into the air. “I’ve got a match!” We all cheered and passed the picture around. “She’s cute” was the general consensus. Phew!
Now came the burden of initiating contact. “What shall I say?” He asked me nervously. I couldn’t help relating the situation to the clichéd rigmarole of talking to a girl in a bar. “Do you cum here often?” I suggested ironically.
A common view is that Tinder is shallow and superficial and I suppose it is. But in saying that, is it any more so than approaching a member of the opposite sex on a night out? Essentially it’s just another way of bullshitting your way to the bedroom. I guess how you get there just depends on how you like your bullshit.