When I’m about halfway through my workout on the elliptical at UNH’s Hamel Rec Center, I’ve pretty much exhausted every social media that keeps my mind off of the torture of 137 strides/minute. Twitter won’t update fast enough, I’ve already read all the Buzzfeed articles my Facebook friends have posted for the day and my Insta isn’t racking up anymore likes, so… what’s a girl to do? Pinterest requires too much attention to check while remaining coordinated on the machine, and checking email is reserved for when I’m bored in class but still trying to stay relevant and pay attention.
Then, my thumb makes its way over to the little red-flamed app known to us all as Tinder.
As a single millennial, of course, I have Tinder. The majority, basically all, of my single friends have, or have had, one and it’s not as much of a social taboo as it used to be. Meaning, its more than socially acceptable to scan through a maximum of 6 pictures of someone and read a maximum 500 word bio on “who they are” and decide whether or not you want to get to know them better, whatever that may mean.
But with Tinder, everything is fabricated. You post your six best selfies that make you appear cool, interesting, and attractive. Your bio explains what you want your potential matches to know about you, things that your suave selfies can’t explain. Bios can feature anything from cool (cheesy) pick-up lines, to disclaimers that “the baby isn’t mine!” and your height if you’re a dude over 6’1. Everyone has different intentions and goals with the app, however generally, hooking up, hanging out or dating is everyone’s end goal. “New to the area and just trying to make some friends!”
Ya right.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had friends start great relationships from Tinder, but I cant separate the virtual BS from the real-life genuine contact. When I went on a tinder date at the end of the summer, we only talked about everything we already knew about each other. He golfs, I like to travel, we repeated the same conversations that we’d had over chat. It wasn’t genuine, it wasn’t fun, and it was hella awkward. At least I got free ice cream?
It’s no secret that these days we’re all about easy-in/easy-out relationships (no innuendo intended), but did you know that when you search for Tinder on the iTunes App store, it’s categorized under “lifestyle.”
????????
How did this swiping game become our lifestyle? What happened to small talk, buying drinks, or slipping someone your number if you find him or her attractive or interesting? Should we be able to browse for compatibility the same way we browse through the daily new arrivals on Tobi? It’s all a little messed up if you think about it.
Next time you pull you phone out at a party, the bar, the library, the class, and start swiping away at people around you, imagine what it would be like if you had to “like” the person on the screen actually in person. What if you were daring, asked someone to dance, bought someone a drink, or paid someone a compliment? I think that seems a little more genuine than a double tap, a right swipe, or a tinder-messaged “Hey cutie ;)”
Maybe I was born in the wrong time, or maybe I have less patience for the BS, but until we can go back to real conversations and genuine feelings, I’ll be here on the elliptical, aggressively avoiding eye contact with the guys I’ve swiped on.
Maybe for me, and for all of us, the best way to swipe is to not swipe at all.