So I sent him the link and then later in the day when I was on the app again I noticed he was gone.
He'd unmatched me.
And all I could think was, Is my writing really that bad?
People are painfully judgmental.
They're IKEA bags full of douche bags.
And it's e/xha/ust/ing.
I actually decided after that to unlink my Instagram to my Tinder.
You wanna judge me shamelessly beyond my six glorious photos?
Then you're gonna have to judge me to my face, assholes.
I'm gonna make the cyber stalkers have to really work for it.
You know.
The way men work so hard for anything these days.
Insert eye roll.
I actually found it offensive that the guy who unmatched me was the same guy going on and on about his recent breakup and how much pain he was in like I was his free therapist simply because I'd swiped right.
Probably because of his stupidly sexy shirtless bathroom selfie.
Judge me all you want.
When they're hot, god dammit, I like those dirty dirty pics.
Dirty.
So his over sharing was okay but something about my online sharing was unacceptable.
Yeah.
Ok.
And THEN I get a novel of a message from some artsy brainiac who is totally my style, the kind of guy who makes the bullshit that is Tinder actually worthwhile, and he is effusively complimentary and I write back and I eagerly scan my messages later to see if he wrote back again and he's gone.
Buh bye.
No kiss my foot or have an apple.
And again, wwwwwwhhhhyyyyyyy-aahh?
What exactly happened between you look like Elizabeth Taylor I dig your style are you a model to GOODBYE FOREVER.
It's getting a little fucking annoying.
In the early days of Tinder we all just met for a drink.
And maybe unmatched after that if there was no sexy time vibe.
Now it's unbelievably more complicated.
I don't seem to have the patience for it.
But I'm definitely going to continue to keep track of it.
Here's to you, the ghosts of Tinder.
The men I will never have regrettable intercourse with.
Aw schucks.
No comments:
Post a Comment