Tindering

You don’t have to be forever alone…


Alejandro, 20, lives 88 miles from St Andrews. He is pretending to hump a mechanical bull in his first picture – with a fellow humper. Double-teaming. As I swipe through, the next picture is of him shirtless with a trainer over the peen. A child’s trainer, I might add. The third is of him with his mother. Obviously, I left my iPhone unattended, and I’m now suffering the consequences. My hilarious flatmate gave him a cheeky like, or should I say ‘heart’. Apparently he hearts me too (score), and so the chatting begins:  “Fancy a ride gorgeous xo”. Well, I do love a gentleman.

This is the world of Tinder, and I’m absolutely hooked. The premise is simple: iPhone users download the app (soz, Android). You sign in with Facebook – but the app assures you it won’t post anything, because that would be embarrassing, and who wants to admit to Tindering? Oh, wait. You choose a few pictures of yourself and you’re ready to roll, or should I say swipe.

The beauty of Tinder is that rejection is a thing of the past. It works based on your location, showing you profiles of ‘fitties’ nearby. You can only start chatting if you both heart each other – so simply swipe if you don’t like. As a wee extra, it tells you if you have any Facebook friends in common or any shared interests. Alejandro also likes Nicki Minaj (#soulmates). To quote my match Jamie, 20, who lives 10 miles away: “I started on Tinder because my flatmate signed me up. And now I flick back and forth from feeling really empowered and superior to just straight up creepy”. But damn, creeping is addictive.

In case you’ve missed the memo, St Andrews is small. There are only so many Tinder-ers within an x mile radius. This inevitably means you will come across people you know. Hence, I panicked when I read a text asking “Tinder much?” I thought Tinder was posting to my Facebook. What would my sister think? Oh, the shame. Why couldn’t I just meet a nice boy? Nope, my friend had just found my profile… The next text simply said that “if you swipe me I’m never speaking to you again”. Heart it is then.

Obviously, finding your friends means you can have terribly witty conversations.

“So, what are you wearing? ;)”

“Does this baggy white shirt that makes me look like Courbet?”

“Hot”

Then there’s finding people you vaguely know. I was matched with a guy I recognise from first year, and I’m pretty sure he just avoided eye contact with me outside the library. I know he wants it. I kid you not, I’ve also swiped my IR tutor.

But let’s be honest, I’m Tindering for the lols. Or at least I think I am. A friend was asked if she would be someone’s ‘Tinderella’. Bar making me feel rather nauseated, it got me thinking. Maybe my Tinder Prince is just one swipe away? Another claimed she would meet the guy she’s chatting to. Personally, I’m fearful she’s going to turn up in a ditch in the middle of Cupar. This is still online dating, after all. Even so, I better keep swiping.

 

images courtesy of postgradproblems.com