Her Campus Logo Her Campus Logo
wolfgang hasselmann TwLGzTFFFio unsplash?width=719&height=464&fit=crop&auto=webp
wolfgang hasselmann TwLGzTFFFio unsplash?width=398&height=256&fit=crop&auto=webp
/ Unsplash
Life > Experiences

Hinge and Other Hopeless Endeavors

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Davidson chapter.

Gone are the days when online dating was solely for middle-aged singles seeking a life-long companion. Our generation has hopped on the cyber-love bandwagon and we’re not talking match.com or e-Harmony—extensively personal profiles ensuring maximum compatibility are no longer necessary. 

Now all you need is a smart phone for instant access to Tinder and Grindr, making a hook-up as efficient and easy as swiping right (you’ve got a match!). 

The newest hook-up app on the scene is (in theory) a little less creepy. With Hinge, your potential matches (a batch of twenty guys/girls each day) stem from your mutual Facebook friends. The limit to your daily batch of potential matches prevents users from treating the app like a video game; unlike tinder, you can’t swipe through everyone within a fifty-mile radius. 

Supposedly, this mutual friends idea is a way to avoid the weirdos you will likely encounter on other “dating” apps. Well, I guess this depends on who your friends are.

While curious and bored this summer in New York City, I decided to give Hinge a go. A fellow intern tried it out, and I was intrigued. After messaging with a few different guys, I agreed to meet one of them for happy hour after work.  Rookie mistake number one: never accept an invitation from a guy on Hinge without consulting your mutual friend.

I selected a new, two-piece number from Anthropologie, some metallic summer sandals, and I was ready for my blind-ish date. Despite some difficulty locating this boy in Grand Central Station (the most practical meeting place in the tri-state area), we found each other and off we went to a random mid-town bar for what was already a slightly uncomfortable get-together.

When we sat down at a rather intimate table toward the back of the bar, I learned that while he did ask me to drinks, he does not, in fact, drink. Hey, no judgment, but perhaps in his future Hinge endeavors he should suggest coffee as the main activity. I quickly learned more interesting facts about him; he is a health enthusiast and self-diagnosed gluten-free so instead of a beer he ordered six tacos, hold the taco part. This was certainly more information than I needed or desired.

We continued to chat and ask each other questions; he was curious to know about the organizations in which I participate at Davidson. When the Young Democrats came up, he was quick to mention that he is the President of the College Republicans at his university. This merely confirmed that we literally had nothing in common except the air we breathed in this over-crowded bar.

Not-so-surprisingly, the date came to a halting end soon thereafter, culminating in an awkward side hug. He essentially said “see ya never” and my sentiments were similar.

Perhaps I was just unlucky. I have friends who have gone on quite successful Hinge dates (so they claim). I think dating is only truly fruitful when engaging face to face, based on attraction and actual compatibility – at least for me. So if you want to try Hinge, go ahead — just don’t expect more than you would from Tinder or other hookup apps.