Tinder, it’s like Klute on your phone

I’ve been single for a full two years now. I’ve flirted in formals, Studio, Klute, Paddy’s and even Stanton’s. Nothing has really worked out for me. So with my fourth year of university stretching out before me, without any sign of an engagement, I got Tinder.

For those of you without an expensive phone, or who live under a rock, I’ll explain what Tinder is. Tinder shows you photos of people near you, if you fancy them, you swipe right, if you’re not so keen, left. You can only start talking to people who you have liked and who have liked you, the idea being that it eliminates rejection.

You like em’…

The great thing about Tinder is that it shows you mutual Facebook friends. You can work out what college someone goes to, what town they came from and, if you part of the London mafia like me, even what school. This makes it slightly less scary than regular online dating – in theory.

Or you swipe em’…

This morning my Tinder journey began, I started swiping. The first person I knew, not just mutual friends, but actually knew, appeared 3 minutes in. He was some “lad” in college that I’d stared at across the dining hall but never actually spoken to. So I suppose saying I know him is pushing it but I can definitely name three people he’s slept with. I swipe him left, with great satisfaction.

Not long after that the second person I know comes up. I have a similar relationship with him as I do with the previous guy, but this time I actually get why people fancy him. I swipe right. It’s a match!

One of my most hilarious matches, oh Phil!

This is now a situation I haven’t encountered before, we’ve sort of admitted we fancy each other but we’ve never spoke. We live in the same building and even sit on the same table for breakfast sometimes.  It’s the most awkward thing in the world ever. That’s if he recognizes me from the ridiculously flattering picture I have used.

Stupidly I tell people this hilarious anecdote. Casually, of course. No big deal. This happens all the time in the modern Tinder world right?

How you think I look, how I really look…

Later on I venture to the MCR (like the JCR but for fourth years and other old people) planning on a quiet bake off session. Many people have had the same idea, including Mister Tinder match and my ill-advised confidants. You can imagine what happened.

“Flo meet Mr Tinder”

I look the opposite of my preened Tinder identity, all pyjamas and glasses. Not a false eyelash to be seen. I go for a wave. The kind of wave that meant to portray “I’ve been in this situation before and it’s not baffling me in the slightest.” He says “Hi” (real life not Tinder) and then carries on like it never happened.

Group photos, the bane of every Tinder user’s virtual existence.

So on my first day on Tinder, what have I learnt? Well I am more confused than when I started really.

If you see me on Tinder swipe right, and maybe we’ll even go to Paddy’s together one day.