We are four days into the New Year and the word tinder keeps cropping up. Unfortunately, so does the word swiping. But I’m trying to ignore that one, with its vivid image of some attractive guy taking one look at my online profile and swatting me away into oblivion. Of course, I don’t actually have a Tinder profile yet, so I’m safe for the moment.
It was fairly traumatic for me to even consider searching for the Tinder site online. Ever the researcher, I decided to read some FAQs about it to get started because that is how I do things. When I wanted to get into road biking, I first got a book from the library called The Drop Zone. Usually books make me feel safe, but this one scared me half to death as it was about racing and made me think I’d have to have to learn to slipstream in a peloton to get anywhere. Then I realized all I really had to do was put the book down and take my bike out for a spin. It got a lot easier after that.
But the Tinder thing, I needed to know some basics before I open myself up to swiping. For example, is it free? You do not need Tinder Plus to get matches, I read in answer to this simple question. Nor are you guaranteed more matches if you pay. With a bad profile and Tinder Plus, it’s possible to be rejected more and faster without receiving any matches. Wait, what? Rejected more and faster? What is a bad profile? Is that one where I talk about my poor track record of keeping pets alive? I have had a lot of pets, but to be fair, many of them were quite elderly when I rescued them. Maybe I should not mention my two unsuccessful marriages either? Is a bad profile one in which you outright lie, or one in which you merely fail to hide the awful truth?
But back to the rejection thing. I just don’t feel it’s a word that should be used in the answer to a simple question about a dating site. It is a word that should be banned in all descriptions of online dating. I just wanted to know if I had to pay. Now I have the specter of rejection firmly lodged in my frontal cortex. And not just any old rejection. More and faster rejection. I am imagining a whole roomful of Tindermen all rapidly swiping me into the trashcan of love. This is not an image that is helpful to my journey.
In order to move ahead, I realize I need some girlfriend help. The last time I was considering going online, I met two girlfriends in a brew pub first. They had impressed upon me the importance of making a list before starting my search. I think I blogged about this already. My initial list had about 3 items on it. They centered on the necessity for my future partner to have his own home, a job, and some semblance of mental stability. My girlfriends gently encouraged me to work that list up a little. After a couple of drinks, with my somewhat over-enthusiastic girlfriend wielding the pen, the list covered one whole side of an 8x11 sheet of paper, including tiny writing in the margins. Then we accidentally left it at the brew pub.
This time I think I need help with my profile. I would frankly rather address the United Nations on global warming than write my own profile for an online dating site. So I plan to have my girlfriends write it for me. Unless they prove to be unequal to the task. Or possibly all too equal. I mean, they know me really well. We have done some very stupid things together. Maybe this plan needs revisiting.
But before I even write a Tinder profile, I think I should go up there and lurk a bit. Isn’t that what you do? See what kind of thing you are up against? Or perhaps I should just work on my UN speech instead?
I’m not usually a procrastinator. But I am looking at practically a year of impressive excuses as to why I could not begin online dating. First, my dad was coming to visit. That one lasted from January last year till April, when he finally arrived. Then there was my Climate Ride in May. Not much point starting to date when I was training 3 or 4 days a week. The poor guy would have been an instant bike widower. After the Climate Ride, my dad was still here for a while. After he left, I actually did go online, eventually, sometime around midsummer. I went on dates with two Bumblemen, and very fine human beings they were. It was all a great experience until I realized I hadn’t been really attracted to either of them and this meant I would have to continue looking at pictures of strangers on my phone and swiping them left or right. I had a hard time remembering which direction was the positive one. A couple of times I swiped great looking guys into the dumpster of love, and I could not get them back out.
I do recall an exciting moment in my Bumbleswiping. It was early August and Jessie and I were on one of those busses that take you from your plane to the airport terminal. We were in Albuquerque, having flown in to stay with my cousin in Taos prior to the three of us doing a road trip back to California. On the flight, I had told Jessie how Bumble worked, and now, on the bus to our terminal, she was excited for me to do some swiping so she could help me pick the next love of my life. I wanted to wait till we got somewhere a little more private, but she did not. So I Bumbled, with her looking over my shoulder and going mom, no! Or him, him! The other folks on the bus studiously pretended they were not eavesdropping on a woman and her teen shopping in public for a boyfriend.
Trying to ignore the surreal nature of what I was doing, I got all excited by this one Bumbleman and Jessie did too. He looked really kind, and unless he just liked to dress up in spandex and pose beside Cannondales, he road biked. He was a dad and looked likely to have both a job and stable shelter. He clearly bathed regularly. I was all ready to swipe him, but shortly before we reached the terminal, we realized the disadvantage of this apparent find. Bumble locks in to your current location. This guy lived in Albuquerque. I live in Fairfax. It was a crushing moment and a good life lesson: never Bumble when you are out of town.
Since then, whenever I have been asked if I’ve tried online dating, I trot out the line that meetups are really more my style. But I haven’t gone to any meetups either, aside from one disastrous episode on a dark mountaintop. As I may have mentioned, waiting around for someone who is not available has been taking a lot of my attention. So. It’s a new year. We are four days in already. Time to write that speech on global warming!
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