(Names may have been changed to protect the guilty)
Hi everyone! I hope you’re all well.
If you want to know how I am, I’m not great to be honest, simply because I have embarked on my Tinder journey, and already I feel pretty…meh.
Of course, my blog and keeping you all thoroughly entertained with my shambles of a life is my priority, and so commences The Tinder Diaries; where I shall share my Tindering experiences with you.
So, to begin with, I am not looking for a relationship; if one comes about then fine but I’m not actively seeking one. I downloaded Tinder because A) I wanted to be nosy and see who was knocking about the online dating-sphere these days, and B) I thought it would actually make some pretty good blog content. That makes me sound like an absolute cow who’s going to lead men on just for a few blog posts; that is not the case. If someone is nice and I get along with them, that’s great, but equally if someone is a creep, then I’m gonna get something out of it and that’s gonna be a blog post.
Okay, so, I say ‘Starting Off’; I was on Tinder briefly before I got with my ex boyfriend, which didn’t go particularly well. I started speaking to one boy, who asked if I wanted to go on a date that weekend. I said yes, and he then proceeded to tell me that we’d be going to church…hmm, now personally I’m not religious, and I support anyones religious views, but I feel like this is a bit of an odd first date venue. Just sayin’.
I then ended up going on a date with a different boy, who was quite possibly the most annoying human I’d ever met. We went for a drink, ice skating, and then dinner (an absolutely mammoth date that lasted hours, with someone I began to dislike immensely by the end of it), and it was just all kinds of hell. To begin with, he kept ruffling my hair (just get off of me, now), and whilst ice skating he proceeded to forget that I wasn’t a professional star on Dancing on Ice, and was flinging me about, whilst I repeatedly told him to stop and let go of me. He didn’t, and I ended up face planting the ice and cutting my knees open. To say that it didn’t spark a relationship, that date, would be an understatement.
So, to say that I’ve just had my ‘first night on Tinder’, could be a bit of a lie as I had a brief (and traumatic, as you can tell) spell on it before, but within my Tinder Diaries, I will call this the first post and first proper ‘experience’ of it. Here we go, huns.
Tinder seems to be awash with men who’s pictures are them with what I presume are their girlfriends judging by the body language, selfies taken in prison cells, topless photos that make me feel extremely queasy, and messages that are hard to understand and say something like ‘sexi body bby xx – wnna have sum fun xx’. I’d literally rather shave my legs with a machete and then pour a vat of salt and vinegar into the cuts afterwards.
Joe, 25, from West Sussex is my first match and sends an immediate message, which worries me at first, but then I see it’s a simple ‘5 questions each, you go first’. Okay, Joe. Perhaps you’re not one for pleasantries, that’s fine by me; we probably aren’t going to have the big white wedding I’ve dreamt of in an Oxfordshire manor house, but that’s okay. Let’s just see where this chat goes.
The questions begin normally, favourite films, if you could go anywhere in the world where would it be, favourite takeaway…until Joe goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like…(I know you’re singing it, and no, unfortunately he didn’t say ‘I love you’, I feel this would have been better than what he did say), ”What’s your favourite underwear that you wear and why?”.
Joe, why’d you have to ruin it? To be honest, I could answer honestly and tell you it’s my saggy floral printed pair from Primark, but you don’t even deserve to know that. Ignore. Joe then proceeds to send me question marks. Boy BYE.
Next up, we have Scott, 29, who pretty much proceeds to tell me how every single girl he’s met on Tinder hasn’t been right for him, despite the fact he’s met absolutely loads of them, but how ‘none of them are for him’. He’s confused by this, because he’s gone on so many Tinder dates, he thought it would average out and he’d at least be a good match for one. Do you know what, Scott? I think your problem may be telling girls how many Tinder dates you’ve been on, and how awful all the other girls have been…just a thought.
Then we get Michael, 24, who immediately informs me that we used to text 6 years ago. Michael, I literally can’t remember what bra I put on this morning. I can’t remember what I ate for dinner last night. In my lifelong experience, I have texted a fair few people, and had so many horrific experiences with dating and being in relationships with men, that quite frankly my memory is clouded over as a form of damage control and protection, and can only remember the few very worst ones.
I’d also just like to point out, that 6 years ago my eyebrows were NOT OKAY HUN, so I don’t really trust any man that was willing to text me back then. Sorry, Michael, but our journey ended 6 years ago, and that’s where it shall remain. Furthermore, I’d like to not be aware of the types of things I would’ve texted 6 years ago. I think that was still the time when ‘Like and I’ll rate you’ Facebook statuses were still a thing.
In the midst of this, I come across someone who I have known for quite a few years, actually fancy quite a bit, and would very much be interested in. I swipe right, we immediately match, and I sit awaiting that fateful message…which doesn’t come. Either he hasn’t checked his Tinder, he accidentally swiped right, or he’s thought ‘Hmm, on second thoughts, I’ll leave it’. All 3 are equally annoying outcomes.
Alas, I feel near on ready to give up, but there appears to be light at the end of the tunnel, in the form of Adam, 32…who also happens to my first date of my Tinder Diaries, which I’m going to tell you all about in my next post.
All my love BGP xx