Tinder (and Bumble)… a Female Perspective

The following is a guest post by my cousin… enjoy!

While there are many, many reasons why men fail when it comes to online dating, here are the top three offenders I’ve come across since joining the wide and shallow world of swiping:

1) Guys are ridiculously full of themselves.

2) … or have no game what-so-ever.

3) They have no idea how to choose appropriate pictures.

GUYS ARE RIDICULOUSLY FULL OF THEMSELVES.

Seriously dudes, enough with the topless mirror selfies… no one cares about your washboard abs. I mean, yeah, they really are nice to look at, but honestly, do they need to be your primary photo? This is coming from a fit girl on her third round of Whole30 who has been religious about following a workout regimen for the last eighteen months. Does my camera roll have a ton of pictures of me flexing my hard earned abs in a sports bra? You bet it does. Should they be posted to a dating website? The answer is a hundred times no. Honestly guys, nice abs are like perfume: they shouldn’t be announced, but discovered.

Also, it may not be obvious to you, but we can tell when you’re clearly in love with yourself. While you might think everyone who is hot automatically gets a swipe right, you are wrong. I tend to swipe left on the “hotties.”

six pack

Let me explain. I’m friends with a guy who is incredibly attractive. Like model attractive. The kind of guy who makes you stumble over your words and turn ten shades of red when you talk to him. And he knows it. The irony is, even though I find him very easy on the eyes, I have absolutely zero interest in dating him. I have a hard time believing anyone that attractive would make a good partner in a relationship—there’s just a lot of baggage that comes with being that hot, and it usually revolves around narcissism.

Looking for a one night stand? Ok, fine, go ahead, swipe right. But I can just imagine trying to have a conversation over a glass of wine on an al fresco patio, and all the uber-hottie can do is stare at his own reflection in my mirrored sunglasses. I would like to say that’s hypothetical, but it’s not. I mean, my face is pretty too… right?

…OR HAVE ZERO GAME WHATSOEVER.

Gentlemen, step up your game!

Seriously, the reason dating in Portland in so bad is that men here refuse to take the initiative. It’s like beards and swag don’t mix. That or all the pot and beer has made them lazy. And yeah, I get that on Bumble the whole premise is that women are supposed to make the first move—but that doesn’t mean we don’t want to be wined and dined a bit after we break the silence.

I recently went on a date where the guy told me he was “impressed with how forward I was,” and that I “just went for it,” because I was the one who asked him out. I don’t usually make the first move, but the older I get, the more I find men are so lacking in social skills that if I ever want to actually meet someone face to face and not have an entirely virtual relationship, I’m the one who has to take the bull by the horns.

I had been talking with this guy for almost two weeks. First, it was through the dating app. Then, we exchanged numbers—okay, we’re getting somewhere. He proceeded to text me and ask how my day was going for a week straight, without any mention of getting together. Then I got a photo of his family dog, then I heard all about the boneless ribs he was BBQing for dinner, then I got a video of a guy pranking his girlfriend in the shower while wearing a creepy clown mask with a chainsaw…

Yeup. Really.

clown

But still, no invitation to grab a drink. I got so tired of waiting I figured I better ask the dude out so I can cross him off my list of prospects before I start getting texts updating me on his fantasy baseball team. Of course, I knew he wasn’t for me (see: Chainsaw video); however, to appease my family and friends who love to lay it on thick about how I’m too picky and don’t give anyone a chance, I went on a date with said weirdo (who, as it turns out, voted for Trump and is automatically disqualified…) just to say I gave it a shot.

Swipe left.

This brings up one of the things I hate most about online dating: the amount of time you invest in one person before finding out they really are the letdown you initially thought they were. You swipe right, you message, you text, and then hopefully, if you’re lucky, you actually meet up in person.

Meeting in person brings up another big time investment… if you’re a girl. My roommate and I had a conversation recently about how great it is to be a guy when it comes to getting ready. I started picking out my outfit for a family event days in advance. The night before, I exfoliated, shaved my legs, and self-tanned (necessary, considering it was the first occasion my Oregon winter white skin had to see the light of day after its long hibernation). Then in the morning, it was the hair blow-out, make-up, and re-choosing of the outfit. And I woke up at six to go for a run in order to be ready on time.

Contrast this with my roommate, who went to the gym an hour before we needed to leave, did a full upper body work out, came home, showered, dressed, and was still ready before I was.

Granted, I obviously don’t go through that much work for a first date. Not anymore. I’ve actually started eliminating many of these steps all together. Shaved legs, gone. He’s winter white too, so why shouldn’t I be? Picking out an outfit? Psssh, I now have one outfit I wear on every first date. Alas, I digress, back to men not taking the initiative.

For the love of God, just ask us out already! Nobody wants a pen pal.

GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO PICK APPROPRIATE PHOTOS.

Remember that bathroom selfie we talked about? Whether you’re flexing your abs or not, make sure your mirror is clean. Maybe you’re just looking for a one night stand, but having blobs of Colgate dripping down the forefront of your photo does not exactly scream “husband material,” or for that matter, “come stay the night at my bachelor pad.” If you absolutely insist on taking that mirror selfie, make sure your bathroom isn’t a cesspool of filth.

Also, you know that epic picture of you and your buddies partying in Cabo over Spring Break? Does it make it look like you have fun? Yes. That you travel? Of course—yay you, you’re “cultured”! That you have friends? Bonus points! He’s not a loner. But guess what? We have no idea who you are! Which one are you? And you’re wearing sunglasses… and a sombrero. Ditto to the photo of you as a groomsman in your best bud’s wedding, and shredding pow up at Hood with your college roommates, and as one in a group of ten rocking your Timbers Army gear waving a tree flag. The whole premise of Tinder and Bumble is the opportunity to make an entirely superficial snap judgment of a person based on their pictures. If we don’t know which one you are and you only choose group photos, we have to assume you’re the short one with male pattern baldness and probably a glass eye under those sunglasses/ski goggles/stunna shades… Swipe left.

sobreros

That being said, the pictures you do choose should actually look like you. The picture of you with the fam in Hawaii from four years ago when you were forty pounds lighter is probably not a good advertisement for what you look like now. Girls pay attention to detail. When we meet you in person, we WILL notice you have eaten ALL of the 38 Portland Burger Week menu items and washed them down with pitchers of IPA multiple times since that picture was taken. Did you recently decide to grow a mountain man beard since your baby face wasn’t getting you any dates? Those genes on dad’s side finally caught up to you and your head isn’t quite as full of hair as it used to be? Fancied a face tattoo, did ya? Not that any of these are deal breakers per se… it would just be nice to know about them before the first meet and greet. Girls don’t like to get catfished either.

On second thought, the face tattoo guy is definitely out.

Let’s recap gentlemen:

  • Don’t be too hot–or if you are, pretend that you don’t know it.
  • Ask us out already!!
  • Get some new pictures… and no, not topless selfies in your filthy bathroom mirror.

If you liked the above, check out the blog more often–this is definitely where we’re headed. Also, if you liked this, you’ll like my new novel, Cherry City Pulp, a hilarious and conversely dark satire about millennials trying to make their way in small town America. And please, share, retweet, and spread the word: chuckingrocks… rocks!

That was corny, but it’s staying in.

About The Author: Jay Scott

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