It was November, 2013 when I decided I had to download Tinder, once and for all, and give it a shot. Everyone kept telling me it was the easiest way to meet people, but it sort of felt like they were talking about ordering human beings as if they were pizza. Not that anyone was complaining. I’ve seen countless profiles of women and men stating they wanted nothing to do with friendship or casual dating. “Just sex, no coffee” Or, “Only sexual, bottom, top, it doesn’t matter, as long as you have cab money.” It wasn’t necessarily the kind of place where you could potentially meet someone but I caved and I decided to take a boozed up afternoon to swipe right on love. Cheesy, I know.
Finally, after reading tons of boringly horny bios, I stumbled upon one guy’s super cool profile that seemed to be a true match. My life started flashing before my eyes, and fingers! And I swiped. He was a foreigner with incredible lips and gorgeous blue eyes and a confident gaze that told me he was way too cocky, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t really care that he was 10 years younger than me either, he was that hot. After a while I get the news I’ve been waiting for. We’re a match and he’s messaging me, asking if I want to meet for coffee. Not only is he not a creeper, he’s the kind that loves to engage in real conversation through DM.