It’s been a little over two years since I was a single lady rolling the dice in the arduous dating game. It doesn’t seem that long ago, but I feel completely out of touch with the current swiping, grinding, love finding terrain.
When I was single last, Tinder had only just come out but was already receiving a lot of attention. I installed the app a handful of times; usually after I’d hit the liquor hard, polished off an Iskander kebab and was sitting greasy lipped and horny. Waves of loneliness would wash over me and I’d start swiping right looking for some form of validation. Yet as soon as I received a match, I’d freak out and delete the app.
I hated (and still hate) the idea of going on a date with a complete stranger. I just don’t feel like I present well initially. Like if a boy met me, harbouring a certain set of expectations I wouldn’t meet them. I prefer to meet people organically, and leave them pleasantly surprised. Since I was failing at swipe life, I decided to formulate my own borderline deperado dating strategy.
Most weekends around mid-afternoon, I’d pick one of my favourite books, have a shot of gin, and head across the road to the Norfolk. I’d order a schooner, take a seat in the sun, sporting an outfit painstakingly planned to look effortlessly thrown together. I’d open the book, re-read the same line over and over again while scanning the bar for eligible men. My logic being if I attracted a boy in this manner, he’d be kind of OK....
Comments on my book; he shares my (good) taste in literature
Initiates conversation; he’s ballsy/confident and willing to put himself out there
Offers to buy me a drink; OK with a girl who likes her booze, also not cheap
Gives me a compliment; thinks I’m alright looking, ego boosted immediately
OK, I would say my success rate was average at best. I definitely had to fend off a few sleazy slimers and at times I felt like a bit of a fucking loser sitting in a bar by myself. Still, I much preferred vetting my potential mates this fashion, rather than scrolling through a bunch of unreliable photos and cringe worthy bios. I was afforded the chance to meet the person in person, free from preconceived judgements. To see if there was a genuine spark. And if all went tits up, it always made for a good story (thanks for always listening Tegan - and your good advice).
Even if I could get my head around each dating app, I can’t comprehend the speed at which all this stuff happens. It seems like people can’t be alone for like less than a week these days. My aforementioned dating strat was only in action after a good year of self-loving and cherished solo time. I feel like people are happy to settle for mediocre mates and dreadful dates, over a delectable kebab and a satisfying mazz. Also the sheer magnitude of singles gives the impression everyone is expendable; people have become more fickle and harder to please.
Moreover, once you’ve got a match there’s so much pressure on your chat. You have to avoid that virtual tumbleweed from rolling across your smartphone screen, and capture your entire personality in a few carefully crafted texts. You need to cut through, connect, and make an impression. Appear funny, smart, and cool. How do you do that? Make a joke about their profile picture? Doll out a compliment? Open with something existential and profound? Then, how often do you wait in between your replies; too little time you appear desperate, but too much and you seem lazy and disinterested. The whole thing is a mind-fuck and I really respect the singles out there giving it a crack - I’m just grateful I’ve got a man and hopefully won’t ever have to get Tinder back.