Why I Deleted Tinder

Dating is the worst.

Not the actual worst. 

I mean, cancer sucks a lot. Ebola's pretty shitty. And I wouldn't wish a broken hip on my worst enemy. (Speaking from experience.)

(I fall a lot). 

But dating boys is an activity pretty high up there on the list of things that I would rather eat bagels than participate in. 

Though, to be fair, so are 99.8% of social experiences that involve more that 4 seconds of small talk. 

So, I decided it was finally time to delete Tinder. 

Why?

Well, friends — as it turns out, my pal Tinder did not, in fact, have my best interests in mind: 

1.) Aside from the fact I was becoming an impulsive & judgmental brat, I was essentially whittling the NYC dating pool down to a narrow (but admittedly very handsome) list of 6"2'+ white men with brown hair and blue eyes. My "type", I guess — Which we all know means nothing except for the fact that nearly every romantic comedy (or epic 3-part saga) lead with which I've fallen madly in love has embodied similar, if not identical, features. (I'm talking to you Elijah Wood)

Anyhow.

Not a good strategy, when all you really care about is if they'll run away when you tell them that you saw Return of the King six times in the theater. 

2.) Height began to trump personality. 

As in: 

A. Did they list their height? If so, isn't that kind of narcissistic and obnoxious? And on a more shallow front: are they actually that tall? And if not, can I ever really trust them again?

B. Did they fail to list their height? If so, isn't that also kind of narcissistic and obnoxious? Like — why should it be on me to decide whether or not wearing heels is going to make me feel like an Amazonian beast? 

Because we all know I'm not not wearing heels. 

(Side note of irony: Elijah Wood is only 5'6")

3.) I was suffering from a severe & significant loss of vital spare time. 

i.e.: the time I'm spending writing this blog post. Or freelance articles. Or filing my fake nails. Or Googling random child actors from my youth and discovering where they are now. 

Still, incidentally, more rewarding than an extended game of hot or not — In which the subjects being judged can talk back and indirectly send you inappropriate photos of their genitalia. 

Bleh. 

4.) Suddenly, I began treating men like slot machines. 

If everything doesn't align all at once immediately— you're usually done with your turn. 

But is that really how it works? It seems like most stories I've heard of true, long-lasting relationships begin with a reluctant girl, and fool-hearty boy, and the bond that builds has he ambitiously oversteps boundaries and almost certain rejection to win her over. 

And I promise I'm not just talking about the ferris wheel scene from The Notebook.

With Tinder, it's just too easy to swipe — date — ghost on repeat until the end of time. But is that what we need, or just what we want? 

5.) (And perhaps most importantly) I habitually began ignoring the men I met in my every day life, assuming the world was separated into 2 zones: Dating Zone & Non Dating Zone. 

Real life, thanks to the outlets introduced by a slew of online dating options, suddenly became a Non Dating Zone. 

I mean, if he wanted me to develop an incomprehensibly passionate crush on him, he'd create a Tinder profile and let me do it there. Not in the middle of the 6:00pm C train commute. 

Yet, as someone who is 100% drawn to personalities, and almost 0% drawn to quintessentially good looks, why was I putting an unnecessary middle man back into the game and taking the personality out of it entirely. 
I can guarantee that none of the guys I've actually liked (from, you know, real life) would have been a match for me on Tinder.  

I never like who I think I will, and it makes me sad to think of all the men I relegated to the left when, in person, they would have been a metaphorical right swipe. 

So there! 

5 mildly-concise and compelling(?) reasons that I hope you, if not delete, at least take a nice warranted breath from that little square flame to look up at the hot guy reading something assumedly very deep sitting across from you on the subway. 

Because, let's be honest, he's never not thinking about girls. 
So go for it.

See what I did there? 

Any excuse for guy-candy. 

Cheers.