I guess I should begin my first admitting that yes, I am in fact on Tinder.
I’m not sure how it happened. My friends had left me unsupervised one Saturday night, and as I was sitting by myself watching The Graduate I very suddenly made the decision that no, I was not above having a Tinder profile. Most of my friends were trying it with relatively no creepy repercussions, so why couldn’t I? I could totally muster my courage and swipe right on some random man, and then muster up my courage and maybe start a conversation with him, and then muster up my courage and actually admit to people that I’ve been talking to someone on Tinder.
Overall, my experience with Tinder has not been what I expected it to be, which was mostly guys not being able to string proper sentences together and then inviting me to, you know, hold hands with them or something. Instead, my experience has been mostly positive, if not sometimes repetitive in that one is usually having the same conversation over and over again with someone who may or may not be cat-fishing me. Although my current date and I had a conversation about American buffets and reality shows, so if he is cat-fishing me at least we’re able to talk about my favorite things.
As I sit here, I’m about to go on my second-ever Tinder date. I’m supposed to leave in ten minutes and my pants are still in the washer. I feel mildly panicky. But not panicky enough to settle for a different outfit.
First dates are always anxiety-inducing, but I think something like a first Tinder date is especially stressful because this person could literally be anyone, like a serial killer or someone who appreciates country music.
And when considering these facts, there are more than a couple thoughts that pop up:
- Is this person a weirdo and should I be afraid of them?
- What if the pictures he chose are super old and he actually has some scary mustache now?
- What if he looks way different in person and upon meeting him I am suddenly not attracted to him and then still have to spend a whole hour chatting?
- Why is he on Tinder in the first place? Does he know I’m not here to hook up? I should probably lead with “I work for an abstinence organization.”
- I should probably wash my trendy black pants. What if they don’t dry in time? I should probably wash all my black things, just in case.
- Is he going to offer to pay for my drink?
- What if this is the worst thing ever?
- What if I try to be funny and he knows I’m trying to be funny?
- Why am I doing this?! I don’t want to meet someone over Tinder! I would definitely have to lie about our meet cute for the rest of my life.
- Should I show up right on time? What if I get there too soon and then have to wait in my car for ten minutes and he walks by my car and sees me pretending to text?
- My ankles are going to be exposed. I should have shaved my ankles.
- What if he doesn’t like me?
- Who cares? You’re a catch! Forget that ignorant Tinder man!
- I will probably care.
- I should just delete my Tinder. This is way too stressful. I hate first dates. I hate small talk. Why am I doing this?
Sometimes I’m really not sure how I ever manage to hold a normal conversation with a person of the opposite sex. Or maybe my current state of singleness is an indication that I actually do not possess this ability.
For the record, yes, he did pay for my drinks, and no, he was in no way a weirdo or sporting a scary mustache.