By Hugh Slaffingnow
Trip Advisor has it. Uber has it. Heck, even IMDB has it. But it’s the one thing missing from internet dating sites like Tinder; user reviews.
Now I’ve been using Tinder on and off for the past 12 months after my marriage went down the gurgler like sour milk, and, for a bloke in his early 40s looking for a relationship – something a little more genuine than the Bachelorette but not as serious as, say, the Queen and old (sir) nut bag Prince Phillip – it is fucking hard work.
On face value, Tinder looks simple; post a selection of pics from Facebook (apparently, blokes with dead animals, beers and Bintang singlets are pretty common, as is their junk), write a blurb about yourself and then see who’s near you and swipe left or right like you’re window shopping.
Then, when you get a match, you’re on, right? Maybe for horny teens and twenty-somethings, but it seems, from my personal experience, that it isn’t that easy. As you would if you met in a pub or nightclub (although without the awkward yelling over dodgy top 40 hits) you go through the motion of “where do you live”, “what do you do”, “got any kids”… Blah, blah, blah.
If – or when – you make it to the point where you actually meet, I’ve found out that women (or at least the ones I have met) have an extremely good sense of making themselves appear differently in the virtual world to what they are in reality. Perhaps a life of wearing makeup helps…
Anyway, after numerous false starts (including one that wanted to get married after making out on her couch for the first time, and another that was a drug addict), I thought I’d found a genuine companion; this cool chick with young kids, a good sense of humour, style and education. We had a lot in common, and it was all sailing along like Bondy’s boat back in 1983 – you know, I stayed at her place and she stayed at mine, we started planning some weekend escapes and I even went to a family birthday bash. Yes, the sex was amazing and plentiful.
Heck, we were even ‘In a relationship’ on Facebook after a couple of months.
And then… One day we weren’t. And un-friended. And phone blocked. She said she needed some space over a weekend, but what I found out was she needed someone else’s cock, and drugs. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time.
She had also lied about events in her past, embellished the truth about others and probably fabricated a whole bunch of other shit. And, presumably, faked her orgasms.
A week after being ‘dumped by defriending’, I still haven’t had any communication saying “we’re done”, “thanks” or even “you’re a great guy, but…”.
Don’t think this is bitter retribution from a man scorned, it’s not. I am ok with it, because I didn’t do anything wrong and hid nothing the whole time.
All I’m saying is wouldn’t it be easier if Tinder had a user review system – like Trip Advisor and Uber – so you could weed out the weirdos from the get go.
Or maybe I’ve just been unlucky. Tell us your Tinder stories below.