Tinder, what happened to you?

Been on Tinder lately? I didn’t think so. Gone are the days of searching your local area for fitties, or trying to find the profile of that person you made intense eye-contact with about two months ago just outside Kro Bar (if you’re reading this, hello). Those awkward first date conversations you’d overhear going on in the Fallow café would brighten your day.

But all of a sudden it seems like catalogue style dating might not be all it’s cracked up to be. The results are bleak, and I think we’ve ruined Tinder.

Brutal

Tinder started in September 2012 and spread through Fallowfield like wildfire – the fit kids could match with the fit kids, the hipsters could match with the hipsters and meet over Bolivian coffee in the Northern Quarter.

You already knew your match thought you were fit, and the only challenge to overcome now was to actually look like your pictures.

It was the perfect lecture distraction – Tinder sessions made the day that little bit more faster and getting a match was always a pleasant ego boost.

After some flirty back and forth messaging, you decide that you’re ready to meet this person in real life.

Sure, you were scared – Catfish was playing up in the back of your head, and you’ve told your mates to call if there was a “family emergency” so you could dash if they were odd or went to MMU.

But there was nothing quite like the excitement of meeting up with a girl who a) lives around the corner and b) is a guaranteed babe.

Tinder really was fun for a while. Fallowfield is a hotbed of attractive people – but the vibes have changed.

Now most girls have been scared away by a mixture of poor chat, terrible flirting and explicit requests for sex.

That’s before they’ve even been offered an exotic date at Nandos or a “cheeky Netflix sesh” in a dingy 10 bed on Landcross Road.

Just matched a fittie

Smooth chat

The best things in life are free, apparently, so why didn’t Tinder listen? Users now have to pay up to £14.99 to enjoy the full benefits of using the application, which includes unlimited “likes” and an undo function in case you swiped the wrong way on someone with poor selfie skills.

On top of this, there’s also now a weird passport feature, which effectively means you can try and match with people in Factory before you’ve even left predrinks. It’s all gone a bit Happn.

That might sound appealing to those with money to burn and the social status of a pariah, but in real terms all Tinder did was officially and unequivocally become a proper middle-aged dating app.

You used to be able to shrug it off as a bit of a laugh – all your mates had it and it was free. Not anymore.

So what now? There are plenty of new apps trying to be Tinder who don’t charge a penny, but, a bit like unbranded cereals, you know it’ll never be as good. RIP.