I like to be hip. I like to be cool. I like knowing the latest lingo, the ‘words on the street’— you know, like bae… snatched… and I-Hope-Harvey-Weinstein-Gets-Ebola-And-Dies.
Stuff like that.
I also like to be in-the-know about technology. I want to know about the most recent apps, smartphones and those little fancy robots that run around your house to vacuum up all the Pringles crumbs you left on the floor after your latest Netflix binge. These things are important. And I must know them.
If I don’t know how something works, I feel like I’m missing out— like that one time I wanted a Polly Pocket for Christmas in 1991 and didn’t get it (even though ALL my other friends did). So, this “fear of missing out” leads me to want to try new things. But, this isn’t always a good thing.
For example, a few years ago, I tried watching Game of Thrones. Everyone had been raving about the show… It was a phenomenon unseen since Michael Jackson moonwalked across that stage in 1983 (before he got creepy). So, I borrowed a disc of the first episode of the hit HBO drama, put it in my DVD player, and hit play.
And I lasted about 17.5 minutes before I turned the damn show off.
Holy shit, I have never seen so many decapitations in such a short amount of time.
I mean, I had NO idea what was going on in the plot or who the hell those headless people were, but I had already seen too much of their blood gushing from their spinal column. It’s important to note that I have to be more invested in my characters before I’m willing to see their bodily fluids shooting into the air like the Yellowstone Geyser. And 17.5 minutes is not long enough for that to happen.
Anyway, my experience with Game of Thrones taught me that perhaps all trends aren’t always great. Not all bandwagons are worth climbing on.
The other day, was looking at the App Store on my iPhone looking for a new game to download. Near the top of the most popular list was the social/hookup/friendship/relationship app Tinder. I had heard of Tinder, but really had no idea how it actually worked. My interest was peaked. If it was at the top of the download list, it was worth learning about. I would be one of the cool kids! I would be in-the-know. It would not be like the Polly Pocket incident of 1991.
So, I downloaded the app and set up an account. A person can add a couple photos and write a really brief bio of themselves or their interests. The app then shows you the profile of folks within a 50-mile radius. You swipe to the right if the person seems interesting— you swipe to the left if the person isn’t your cup of tea. If you and another person both swipe to the right, it’s called a “match” and you’re able to type a message to that person (if you want to).
It’s a very simple premise… One quick decision. It’s like cleaning out your closet. Do you want to keep that old Green Day t-shirt, or throw it away? Dump the shirt in the trash? Swipe left. Keep it to see if you might wear it when you need to clean the shower with bleach? Swipe right.
So, I started playing the game. Err— I mean, using the app. It’s very fun and addictive. About 95% of users are trying to impress folks with their gym selfies (why must you stand in front of a mirror each time, dude?)… their sky-diving photos… and their motorcycle portraits. Swipe left. Swipe left. Swipe left.
As fun as it was at first, after a few hours of using the app, I very quickly found myself becoming increasingly judgmental in real life.
At a gas station, I began commenting on someone’s questionable parallel parking ability. Swipe left. Then, I criticized a guy for wearing a baseball cap with the sticker still on the bill. Swipe left. I rolled my eyes when a friend on Facebook used your instead of you’re. Swipe left. At a restaurant, I inwardly cringed at a lady for her unflattering hairstyle. Swipe left.
I was out of control.
I quickly realized that it was Tinder that had turned me into an intolerant and heartless version of myself. If I wasn’t careful, I’d turn into something really horrible. Like an Olsen Twin.
Enough was enough. So, after having the app on my phone for a grand total of 47 hours, I deleted it.
There are some trends that just aren’t worth it.
3 thoughts on “Elizabette Does Tinder”
Always a pleasure to read your funny stories, Elizabette.
You taught me something new! Tinder? Who knew that was a “thing,” not me! Love your (not you’re) witticisms!
Firstly I’ve never seen Game Of Thrones. Not sure I will.
I’ve not experienced Tinder, but the idea of it just sounds so brutal!
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