My Year on Tinder

            I’ve been working on this piece for a while. I tend to write when I get frustrated with something. It helps me clear my head. I haven’t really told anyone about it. People aren’t really interested in the pieces I say I’m writing. Rightfully so, since I have dozens upon dozens of Chapter 1s of stories that never went anywhere. They just want the final thing. This one’s a bit more somber so if you’re here for humor, sorry, you’ll have to wait a bit longer until something dumb happens to me again (that probably won’t take long). For the rest of you, these might seem a bit disjointed. For some, I wrote as things happened and for others I went back and penciled them in. I thought about editing it but I wanted to preserve what I felt at the time and the best way to do that would be to touch each encounter as little as possible.

            Every December the company I work for rents out a theater for the employees. Normally I go to these alone or I ask whatever woman I’m chatting with online if she’ll be my date to it. As anyone who knows me will tell you, I only ever go to these alone. But this time, it was for a Star Wars movie. This time, it was going to be different. “Get Tinder!” My friend Jake has been incessantly goading me into downloading.  “My buddy at work uses it and he goes on a new date practically every week. And he’s Latino, not white. There are some women in Utah who will date you if you’re not white.” I was never convinced, always brushing off his attempts as naïve. But, this time around, I did. I mean, it’s Star Wars, my company is paying for tickets and concession, a free date with food to the most popular movie of the year (probably). How hard could it be to find someone? So that’s what we’re going to focus on, how much work it takes for someone who’s the personification of everything Utahns hate to get a date.

            This wasn’t my first time around with Tinder. I downloaded it way back when. A co-worker of mine used it. He met his wife on it. That was all the convincing I needed. This was before there was a limit to how many people you could swipe-right on. So a diligent person could see most of the matches in a given area within a few days, or even one, depending on how populated the area you live in is. That was me. I got 3 matches. 2 were robots and, as liberal as humanity was during the Obama years, I don’t think they were too keen on human/robot marriages. Plus, you just know one of those robo-bitches are going to pull the “I have an AI boyfriend” card on you. But one was a genuine person. She was a bit thicker, but she seemed like a chill person. She liked to cook, watch anime and was geeky. Awesome. I sent her a message, asking if she liked chocolate cake. My family has this homemade recipe that’s absolutely divine. Any chocoholic will think they’ve gone to heaven after just one bite. No reply. She read it. Just didn’t feel like replying. “Or not, that works too.” I replied. This time. I got a response. “Stop being so desperate.” I’m clearly out of touch with people if 2 messages equates to desperation. That was the end of that conversation, better than the no response I almost always get on dating sites. But Tinder saved that match. So that a year and a half later, she was still there. “So, is waiting a year and a half before replying proof that I’m not desperate?” I ask her. She unmatches me. A question we’ll never get an answer to, it seems.

            No need to dwell on the past. This is a whole new Fel. One with money and benefits. A youtube channel. Still the same author, you can never have that taken away. Time to find someone for Star Wars! I had 2 weeks until the date. 14 days to find someone, chat her up a bit and ask her out. Simple. Tinder had a ton of potential woman who I wouldn’t mind dating. Women who love food (in case you can’t tell how fat I am, I love food too). There are some geeky types who were into Star Wars (perfect, just what I’m looking for.). While not my thing, some are super into outdoorsy stuff. I wouldn’t mind dating them, as long as they don’t expect me to go with them. And there are even women who describe themselves as “inteligent”. So there aren’t a whole lot of nerdy women here, unfortunately. Also, there are a ton of young mothers. You’ll eventually get used to seeing 21 year old divorcees with a kid or two. One thing I never understood was why you’d upload pictures of yourself with those dumb snapchat filters.

            It wasn’t long till I got a match. Awesome. Tinder beeped me, usually when I was at work, telling me to log in and see the new person who was interested in me. Yet, when I got home, she was gone. Odd. Maybe she changed her mind. It’s the 21^st century, women are allowed to do that. Another match. Great. Time to check on this person. I send her a message but it doesn’t go through. Weird. I try again. Still nothing. Must be something wrong with the app. I log out, and then back in. She’s gone. Another unmatch. This happened a few more times before I thought there was something wrong with the app and sought help online. “Those are bots.” Someone informed me. “Tinder gets rid of those as soon as people flag them as such. They swipe right on everyone.” There are a lot of bots on Tinder. I should have been suspicious when I saw so many model-like women living near me.

            2 weeks came and went. I didn’t get a single human being. “Just like I told you, Jake” I complained to my friend. “I spent 14 days on Tinder and didn’t get one date. You clearly underestimate how much Utah women don’t want me.” He told me to just stick with it. I can’t quit just because I don’t get what I want right away. Granted, I’d say 2 weeks of rejection is more than enough time to gauge whether it’s worth sticking around on the app but I’ll indulge him. Jake insisted I’d find someone. I just had to give it time.

            3 months came and went. Bots matched and unmatched. At this point I was getting mad at Tinder. Why is it deleting bots? At least let me talk to someone while I’m using this app, even if it’s just an AI script trying to scam me. How can I show Jake how much bullshit there is on here when the data I’m trying to gather keeps getting deleted? The only profiles that stuck around were the ones that never replied back. I gathered quite a few of those. Nice to know that, when impulsive, women will give me a chance, however brief that may be.

            But I finally wrangled myself a talker. A nurse who was a year older than me. She spoke in a simple, one sentence message. Just a few words, no matter what I asked. Favorite restaurant? Any that serve steak. Favorite movie, show or book? Comedy. (That’s a genre. I guess the Utah educational system is a bit lacking). You know what, those are pretty cliché questions. She’s probably just bored of being asked the same question constantly. So I asked if she could go anywhere, all expenses paid, where would she go and why. “Hawaii.” Ok, that’s where but not why. But we have a point of interest. She wants to go to Hawaii, so I mention I used to live there and start explaining what life was like on the North Shore and then I ask, again, what is it about Hawaii that appeals to her. “Cool. I want to go there.” Yeah, I know you want to go there. That’s why we’re talking about Hawaii. Jesus Fucking Christ, what is it about Utah that makes almost all their Mormon women retarded? Is that really what guys here want? A child in an adult’s body? So I asked her how many people have died while in her care as a nurse. “None”.  “That’s surprising. After talking to you, I would expect at least a dozen a week, you’re so dense.” That earned me an unmatch right there but I didn’t really lose anything.

            A bit more time passed. At this point, I’d swiped right on every person within a 20 mile radius of me between the ages of 21 and 33. From here-on-out, I was only getting people who were newly signed up.

            As rare as it might have seemed, I actually came across people I knew. There was the one who really only pretended to be interested in me to get close to my friend. Yes, I swiped right on her. I can’t help it. In my mind, I know what they’re like but, deep down, I hope that they might change their opinion of me. No luck with her.

            There was a former co-worker. She seemed nice. Mormon, return missionary, college graduate. Here’s a bit of back story between the two of us. I had asked her out to see Ant-Man in the past. Yeah, that long ago. She said yes but that she was busy that week. That was fine. It was getting close to the end of summer. I waited a week before following up with her. Again, she was busy that week. Uh, oh. I’ve been in this situation before. Almost the exact same situation, Mormon, return missionary, only the last time it was with Iron Man 3. That was a series of “not this week, perhaps next” that lasted 3 months, until she started dating her boyfriend (who I can only assume had been waiting for half a year just to get on her schedule). I wasn’t going to let this end the same way. 3^rd week, I opted for a different activity we could do together. Sushi. I like eating. Plus, it’s a quicker date, 30-60 minutes as opposed to the two hours+ of a movie. And, you know what; she loved the sushi place I recommended. I just wish that she had chosen to go with me as opposed to someone else (maybe she also had a schedule of guys in line to go out with). You know it’s not a good sign when, after almost a month’s time your future date says “You know who you should really go out with?” Especially when the person they recommend is another co-worker return missionary who did agree to go out with you in the past and yet bailed at the last second without telling you, leaving you standing around at work wondering if something terrible happened to her. She’s fine, by the way. She just decided to leave work early and not cancel the date for some reason. I don’t ask for much. A simple “I was never interested in you, I just said ‘yes’ because I don’t like saying no.” or a “Fuck off, nigger! Brigham Young was right about your people being evil.” Something that lets me know “Fel, don’t bother showing up because they certainly won’t.”

            But that’s all in the past. Maybe this time, things would be different. I swiped right on her before realizing I didn’t need Tinder’s permission to send a message. We were already Facebook friends. Plus, what better time to ask her out than right after she signed up for a dating app. She wasn’t in the mood to date 2 years ago but she’s clearly ready now. Why else would she create a Tinder profile is not to date. So I go over to her profile, send her a message. We haven’t seen each other since she quit. Maybe she’d like to catch up over a meal sometime. Perfect. It’s simple. The “meal” part lets her decide where in case she’s a picky eater and “sometime” in case she’s only available during weird hours. How can this fail? “Sorry. I’d love to but I’m just swamped at work.”

            Well, I’m 6 months in at this point, beginning of the Summer, and the closest thing I’ve gotten to a date is a bot trying to scam some money out of me by offering me “nudes”. My friend, Molly, came up to visit from California. This was just the pick-me-up I needed. And, because things can never be perfect in my life, I was faced with a conundrum. I matched up with someone. Normally this would go nowhere but she was really interested. So much so that she asked to go see Wonder Woman with me. This caught me off-guard. Not only did she already see Wonder Woman but she asked me. I haven’t been asked out in over a year and a half. And that co-worker later rescinded that lunch offer after, when she asked me if I could talk to my brother about transferring her into Marketing, I told her that I didn’t talk to my brother about business. Anyway, enough about that, back to the Tinder woman. She was only available Tuesday for a matinee. I was set to hang out with Molly Monday night. Normally, when we hang out with friends, we go well into the night but I knew if I stayed late, I would be running on no sleep for my date. I’m not one of those people who can just lay down and sleep. It takes me a long time before I go under. So I did what any person who hasn’t been on a date in years did. I called it an early night, spending only 2 hours with Molly and got a good night’s sleep. Listen, I’m not a good looking guy. I know I’m ugly. I’m not wooing anyone with my appearance. It’s all personality with me. I need to be on my A-Game on dates. Anything less than that and I know I’m never getting another chance again, especially with someone you meet online since you’ve had very few first impressions with them.

            So the day of the date came around. I got all my ducks lined up. The usual stuff like shower along with my medication since I’m always in pain and the last thing I need is to be mentally off because of knee issues. I got the work I needed to do done early and left the optional stuff for later at night. Everything is just perfect. I could not have planned this day any bet-“Sorry. I’m canceling our date. Going out with someone you’ve never met is just too weird for me.” No. Please no. Not like this. Not like this. Ok, maybe I can salvage this. “I understand. But you’re a pretty cool person. Maybe we can still be friends.” I gave her my Facebook but to no avail. She was gone. As quickly as she came, she left even quicker. The sacrifice, the preparation, all for naught. Of all the times to get asked on a date, of all the times for a date, why so early after the day I’m set to hang out with an old friend from Hawaii? It could have come at any time before this. Hell, I bet it could even come at practically any time after this. Why now just to cancel?

            August was just about done. I figured things would be better during the summer months; people were typically on vacation or at least a more relaxed schedule. Guess not. I did meet a nice Russian woman. She was open with what she wanted. She wouldn’t date me due to differences of beliefs but we could be friends. I like that kind of frankness. I have no idea why people can’t just be honest with each other. We chatted for a bit. She was here for school and to be around more Mormon people since there were hardly any back in Russia. She really liked Utah. It was certainly more warm here than it was back home, though I did tell her that it’ll get more familiar once winter hits. After two weeks of talking I asked if she wanted to hang out that weekend and I never heard from her again. I know that might seem rude on the surface but if there’s one thing I can tell you about my friends, it’s that we really don’t hang out much with each other. Molly’s visit was the first and, so far, last time we did anything with each other. So, she fits right in.

            I don’t normally match up with people who “likes adventure. Suggest one for me so we can go on one!” but I did get one. Still in August, this one was shortly after being matched up with Russian from above. Two matches in just a bit over 2 days? I’m on a hot streak! She was also a big Lord of the Rings fan. I just had to ask what character I reminded her of. “Lurtz” was her reply. I had no idea who that was, so I had to look it up. It’s the orc that kills Sean Bean’s character. Ouch. Ok, so I’m not attractive to her, unless she has an orc fetish. (Turns out, she’s not a fan of orc.). But she swiped right so she has to see something in me. I thought for a bit. She likes adventure and wants me to suggest something. Hmm. I asked if she liked Indian food. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried it.” Perfect! There was a delicious Indian place in town that my buddy Brandon loves going to. I recommend going there, trying something new. “What could be more adventurous than trying a cuisine you’ve never had before?” I ask. She mulled over her answer, not replying. “Or maybe if that’s too much adventure we can try something a bit closer to home, like Cracker Barrel.” I suggest. I’m a big fan of thinking but even I thought the amount of time she spent thinking this over was a bit much. It’s a meal. You’re in and out in under an hour. I’m not exactly asking for commitment here. I never did hear back from her. Maybe she thought herself to death.

(So I shared that last one on Facebook. I screwed up. Evidently, when women say they like adventure, they want the same thing they usually get only a bit different. I should have asked her to Café Rio then dared her to get something she’s never gotten before. Live and Learn, I guess.)

            I got matched up with someone. Yay. It’s been about a month since Cracker Barrel. I was worried that would be the last person. But here’s someone who’s pretty funny. “Hair is short, like my standards.” It’s pretty clever. She’s not from Utah, so maybe that explains the humor and intelligence. In her profile it says she swipes right on everyone, to give them a chance. I wanted to test it out and, well, you can tell by me writing this that she wasn’t lying. I have to admit, the first question to pop into my mind is that she must get some really interesting questions, not to mention some weird ones, since she swipes right on everyone. I just had to ask her “What’s the most interesting question someone has asked you on Tinder? And what’s the weirdest?” I’ll let you know her answer once she responds.

(Ed. I should have written “if she responds” instead.)

            And that’s the end. Sorry there isn’t some grand finish, like me finally getting a date or meeting my marriage mate. I originally started writing this to show how much work I had to do just to get a single date and I certainly did that. I just expected that this piece would end with me finally getting a date. “What does it take to get a date on Tinder?” More than I have to offer, it seems. For a state where people go from meeting to marriage in a matter of month, I have the most extraordinary difficulty in just getting women to agree to a date and show up. Having them say yes isn’t too difficult in person. I get yes’s fairly often. But the “showing up” part of the date (you know, the whole point) is nearly impossible. It happens so often that, unlike most people, I don’t even get excited from a yes. The only thought that goes through my mind is “Is this a real yes or is she going to bail on me?”. Why does this happen? Maybe it’s because I’m unlucky, being born on a Friday the 13^th, or being the personification of everything Utah hates. After 30 years of life, I’ve finally found my answer. It’s that cursed Egyptian amulet I have. Why do I keep that?

            You might be surprised to find this paragraph here. I know I am. Surely that last paragraph was the concluding one. Or has age finally caught up to Fel and he’s gone crazy (I was never fully there to begin with, to be honest). You see, something happened to me. I got addicted to Tinder. I say “got” like it’s a new revelation. I was addicted, I just never knew. For weeks this has been written but I couldn’t give up on Tinder. I kept swiping right and hoping the next one would be the match that would turn into a date. It was like playing slots in Vegas, only more dangerous. In slots, you stop once you ran out of money. Here, there was no money. Only the faint hope that the countless hours over the course of the year wouldn’t be wasted. “I have to be due for a match. It’s been so long” I told myself. It’s the gambler’s and sunk-cost fallacy, rolled into one. I knew it, yet I couldn’t resist. The allure of the date, the thought that I could finally end one of my stories with a happy ending for once, it was just too much.

            I convinced my friend Jake, the one who insisted I get the app in the first place, for a meal. It didn’t matter what or when. Something. Anything. I just wanted something for my troubles, so I could at least feel like I at least got something out of it. We agreed on Café Rio. An interesting choice, or maybe this was Jake’s way of saying I’m a woman. But I like the place, plus I’ll never turn down free food. Also, we were going on November 13^th. My birthday. Perfect. I’ll be done with Tinder, I’ll finish this piece and it’ll end on a…well, not date, but a meal at least. I was all set.

            I was but Jake wasn’t. I’m not sure what happened. Maybe work caught up to him or he just forgot but Jake never showed. I waited for him to come get me but he never did. He did wish me Happy Birthday…the next day. But there was never an explanation on what happened. I just sat there, in my room, all alone, on my birthday. Maybe I’ve been too hard on Utah women. I mean, if my own friends don’t show up for something we have planned, why should I expect them to? Maybe this is just how things are for me. So I retreated back to my memes. The humor they provide is at least a temporary escape from my problems. Sometimes. I do get jealous at the ones that are about dating. People get excited for dates. They have fun while on them. They’re with people who love them.

That’s all I wanted. To be able to go out with someone without worrying if they’re even going to bother to show up. To be able to know that they’re not just using me to get closer to one of my friends. To be able to know that, for once, someone loved me.