Hello hello Lovers!
As it’s officially the last day of Masturbation month I hope you’ve all been furiously flicking, rapidly rubbing and willingly wanking yourselves into blissful oblivion! Sadly I had work today and general health and safety rules frown upon cheeky acts of self-loving in the cool room.
Sigh, we live in such a tyrannical society!
Now Lovers, as the title of this blog suggests, the Tinder experiment did not go down well. Neither did I for that matter, not on a single person.
Why you ask? Well my curious Lovesters, that is what I hope to explain to you.
So in the crazy world of Tinder, I seem to be quite the exotic specimen to foreign gentlemen, particularly Asian and Indian fellows. Maybe it’s due to my pasty white skin, double jointed thumbs and child bearing hips.
Aussie and European men seem to not appreciate my unique… Style quite so much. So my Tinder match list usually read as follows: Ashish, Nishit, Pramith, Sumit, Navroz, Yari, Manil, Saad…. And Dave.
I discovered Asian men especially are very much like my first boyfriend, Cambodian Charlie.
Fast. Very fast.
Honestly, I would type one message and they would shoot four over before I could even hit send on mine! Then of course I’d have to change my message to answer their new questions, which takes even longer. So just as I’m about to send that one I get smashed with another five! If I didn’t reply in thirty seconds or less I would get an instant “hello? Are you still there?” Just as I was explaining that yes I was indeed still there I would receive “Have I upset you? Did I ask the wrong question?”
I had to delete about ten guys just because I couldn’t bloody well keep up with them!
As I mentioned in the previous post however, I had two dates set up.
And both of them bailed.
One guy was super keen beans the whole time leading up the date. Then on the night there was complete radio silence. We hadn’t organised a place or time to meet so I suppose I was lucky I didn’t get all dressed up only to drink by myself at some romantically lit bar.
I mean, I certainly did drink that night, but it was a bottle of five dollar moscato and I was in my pyjamas, so no preparation was needed.
The other dude who asked me out was bang up for a coffee date. But then a few days beforehand he got all weird and down on himself. If I didn’t answer within five minutes (heaven forbid I was at work and didn’t answer for five hours) he would say things like “you’ve gone haven’t you? I knew it was only a matter of time.”
When I finished whatever I was doing and texted him back he was always so weirdly grateful that I had deemed him worthy of my attention. He would say things like “Why did you swipe yes to me? I’m nothing special. You’re going to get rid of me soon, I can tell. “
Now I know self confidence is hard people, but there’s nothing more unattractive than a guy who constantly puts himself down and keeps asking why you bothered to talk to him.
I had to delete him. The sad sack was just depressing me.
After those two failures I just didn’t really have the heart or will to continue. It was such hard work. I’d come to dread the sound of my phone, which at the peak of the experiment was going off at least fifty times a day.
The truth of the matter is, I hate myself for judging these men on such superficial factors. I didn’t look closely at their photos but I could always tell just from a glance if they were Indian, Asian, European etc. Or if they were obese, hairy, insanely tattooed or had any other physical imperfections.
And I judged them.
As hard as I tried not to, there was just no excitement having a conversation with someone I was so clearly not attracted to. I felt relief when my two dates cancelled because I knew just from a glance that I was in no way attracted to them, and therefore didn’t want to go on a date with them.
And that’s the part I hated the most, my inability to see them as more than their outward appearance.
I suppose I’ve learnt some painful truths about myself through this experiment. If someone is very overweight, isn’t fluent in English, is much older than me or doesn’t fit with my particular ‘beauty standards’ then I don’t talk to them.
What a bitch.
But on the other hand, what’s the point in spending all my time talking to people I’m not remotely interested in, when the online world is so strongly appearance orientated?
What a conundrum!
I guess the thing to remember, is that everyone finds different people attractive. So instead of forcing myself to go on dates with people I’m clearly not into, I should leave them free for the person who thinks they are the sexiest thing since flavoured condoms. After all, they do say there’s someone special out there for everyone. Heaven forbid I took someone’s special person and missed out on my own!
At the end of the day it’s easy to say “don’t judge people” but when you’re giving that person permission to let his purple headed warrior invade your sausage wallet, I say judge just a little.
Pickup line of the week: Nice pants, can I test the zipper?