age

Tinder Without Borders

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I only recently signed up on Tinder. I registered via my Facebook account and didn’t look at it again til a couple of weeks later. Two nights ago I looked at it for the first time; didn’t even think to look at my own profile page.

Was out with my friend (you’ve read some of her stories). Told her I thought I was at highest age range of Tinder. We checked. I am, but I’m in good company. I started looking and swiping, mostly right with my new buckshot approach, and also because I wasn’t wearing glasses or reading the profiles or looking through the photo options.

About 90% of my right swipes resulted in matches! Continued this for another day, weeded through the errant matches, and started conversations with 21 men. 21!! I texted the same message 21 times: “Hi (insert name here). Summer off to a good start?”

Results? 17 (yes, you read that right) responded! One date scheduled. Another has my phone number. 4 or 5 other ongoing conversations, one of which seems to be heading more toward dirty talk than a meeting. One of them pointed out that my profile was sparse (remember, I had never set it up). I updated and got some nice feedback from my penpals.

Now what? I’ll keep you posted.

A Prince’s Perspective

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Here’s an interesting observation, submitted by a reader…friend…prince…(as always, published unabridged). 

Huddling up at the bar to swipe right or left…

I am not so sure that the Tinder’s and Bumble’s ruling the dating world these days are that much different than those good old days of just going to the bar, club or downtown lounge and trying to meet someone of the opposite sex. Then again, for me those days were not so good; I didn’t have much luck meeting anyone.

Think about it: arriving with our friend(s) with the faint hope of finding someone special, strutting into the place with a wing-man (or wing-woman), grabbing a beer, cocktail, or something in our hands that made us look busy, and then we’d peer around the oppressive environment to see if our eyes could catch a look from someone of the opposite sex.

How is this so different than Tinder? Isn’t this the very same thing as opening up Bumble and peering into the eyes of a person in a photo, our hands holding something to make us feel important, ready to bust a move? It’s no shock how today these twenty-something’s use Tinder for hook-ups, given how it takes away all the unnecessary trappings like travel and venue for them to find immediate gratification instead of wasting an entire evening on the prowl.

The Tinder’s and Bumble’s of the dating and hook-up world rely on that first glance, not on the written word or laundry list of things we like. Of course, some write how they enjoy wine, travel, the beach and good food, yet the focus is not on what is written but simply that initial look in the eyes. This is just like at the bar! Of course, the limited number of matches on those apps are also just like the bar, it’s not THAT simple! Men and women lying about their age, also no different than in the bar when someone told us they were 24 when they were really 34. On the app, the fuzzy photos or group shots with friends cover up the truth that they are really 65! Hell, it’s really no different than when we huddled up at the bar, things haven’t changed that much since being in my twenties.

I’ve tried Match, Plenty of Fish, Jdate, sites that require detailed profile descriptions. But in the end, it is still that first look that matters most. The internal chemical reaction to another’s eyes, face, or countenance draws us in. It’s not any written word, or excuse the expression, how we sell ourselves.

Little has changed other than venue, it is still chemistry uber alles.  For human beings in this difficult mating game, we are still just like mammals in the jungle.

Buckshot? I am all ears!

I have a couple of comments. (Of course I do.)

  1. At the bar, you can get some sense of chemistry, albeit tequila infused. Tequila=good.
  2. A point made in Aziz Ansari’s book, Modern Romance: people are checking dating apps even on their ways to meet dates…you never know what better options may appear. Like bar hopping.

Pants on Fire

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One of my friends made a date for the other night. According to his profile, he was about ten years older than she (she’s 39 and has broad age parameters), no kids, all looked interesting.

They made plans for a few days later. Drinks at a nice place, a late start to the evening. He hadn’t seen his buddy in a while, and he didn’t want to cancel the earlier dinner plans. Reasonable. No explanations necessary. In hindsight, that should have been her first clue.

She arrived by taxi; the driver over-shot the address. As she walked back toward the restaurant she saw her date saying goodbye to his buddy…a hot and heavy goodbye as he put her into a cab.

My friend still went in to meet him. And told him what she saw. He briefly hemmed and hawed, and then decided to be truthful. Not about the earlier date, but about himself.

Turns out that “no kids” is, in fact, 5 kids. It appears he decided there was no point in lying anymore. His true age? Guess we’ll never know. I wonder if his wife does.

How You Doin’?

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Saturday:  I was just chatting on one of the sites. I signed off without letting him know I was leaving; he was freaking me out. Not in a threatening way. Can’t even say he was creepy. Too persistent…catches me every time I’m there. On the particular site, I don’t think there is a way to sign in invisibly.

I did start chatting with him after he made a third request in as many days…gotta admire his tenacity. I hadn’t responded earlier because I think he’s skimming more than a couple of years off his age, based on photos. I understand vanity, but, also enough already with the liars (there are way too many of them). We get it. You want to attract someone younger. Guess what. Us too.

What sent me running, though, was the series of lines. A compliment is nice. He reached out, so I asked what he was doing. He answered that he was thinking about a date with me. I asked about his weekend plans…hopefully spending time with me. Stop it! Don’t tell me you’d like to have a conversation; have a conversation! Ask a question (and not “where’d you find the fountain of youth?”).

Sunday: Today he asked why I stopped chatting and said he’d like to get to know me. Nope. Then I feel bad about not answering (since I feel bad when I don’t receive a response).

Tuesday: He’s still messaging me, this time with a question about my weekend. I can say with certainty that he’s not “the one.” Begs the question, is it nice or mean that I responded to his question/message? I really don’t know (and am very interested, reader, in your take on this).