Dear Tinder

I had a bunch of reservations when I made the leap and signed up and actually paid for a membership. I understand that many people don’t actually pay for you, and I still do not understand the difference between the paid and unpaid membership that you offer, except that I paid. I told myself that I was done with you and other sites like you. I would much rather just pick up a homeless person and take him home, treat him to a shower and see what I am working with. I felt that it wasn’t going to be much different from what you present me with on your site. However, I figured that by signing up with you, I wouldn’t have to clean my shower as often.

I have to say that I was not sure what I was doing or what was lurking behind the swipes right. I would be lying if I did not mention there was a bunch of people I did not expect to see on your site. I do not want to appear judgmental, but there were many married men looking for a good time on your site. Are you aware of this? I am sure you must be.

Others were on your site with their partner looking for a third, and I found this fascinating for several reasons. I wondered which partner was the one to bring this up in their relationship and which of the two made the Tinder profile. Did they compromise on what information they put out there? Did they sit and swipe right together? I always wondered which one swiped right on me? I don’t think they knew that I have zero ability to multi-task, that’s okay I don’t think I noted this in my profile anyway. I didn’t think it was important. However, I do think it’s important to mention that nowhere in my profile did I EVER say that I was interested in being a third. I can barely managed being a half.

I gave these couples very little serious consideration, but I did ponder the awkwardness of the first date, if I would have chosen them, like my forever couple. Would we have gone bowling? Would I have gotten a Pedicure with the wife, while the husband watched? Could this have been considered foreplay? I honestly, have no idea how it would have worked. Would we have all gone out to dinner to discuss our likes and dislikes, and powered through all the long, uneasy breaks in conversations while thinking that I am failing to impress not one, but two people. No, I did not pick a couple. I would have never picked a couple to date. I’d rather just disappoint one person at a time.

My time with you was short, sweet, and I was barely corrupted. Because of this, I write this tangential “thank you” letter to you, Tinder. Thank you for being the creepy little “go to” dating site that gave me the push needed to see that there are other semi-normal people out there, like me. I will always remember you, like that leering relative who sits in the corner at a family function and asks (maybe too politely) for you to come sit on his lap while he sings “Happy Birthday” in your ear. But it’s not your birthday, and after you never want your birthday to come again.