Last night I was texting a friend of mine who had also had a pretty shitty week, and we determined that more fun is needed in our lives. Frivolity and whatnot. This lined up spectacularly with the fact that today was a professional development day, and therefore no children would be taught and I would get to wear jeans and curse in the hallways. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of treating today like a vacation day, and therefore ate too much chocolate and watched too much TV last night. Which gave me a headache. Which required Excedrin migraine. Which has caffeine. Which kept me up half the night.
Somewhere around 11:30pm, I gave up on ever actually falling asleep, got out of bed, and searched for diversions. I read two chapters of Malcom Gladwell's David and Goliath, scrolled through Facebook, checked my email, and joined Tinder.
Yes, I am aware that Tinder is the slut of the online dating squad. The format alone reinforces that reputation: lots of pictures, very few words. But I couldn't sleep, so I thought it might be fun to swipe through hundreds of photos of more (or less) attractive men in the New Orleans area in the middle of the night just for kicks. Looking back, this was a terrible idea on so many levels. The screen brightness just made me more awake, I'm pretty sure I have carpal tunnel in my thumb now from all the swiping, and I don't think late-night perusal on a site known for hook-ups probably sends the right signals. Well, I'm not really trying to send any signals, but I'm definitely not trying to send those kinds of signals.
However, I will admit that it was intensely fascinating/entertaining seeing what people choose to put on their profiles. For example, "adventure" has got to be the most-used word on the site, and selfie has to be the most prevalent picture format. There are also lots of pictures of men with dogs. Men traveling. Men with women (are you trying to preemptively make people jealous?). Men with fish. Lots of men with fish. So many men with fish.
I also found that the number of attractive men on the site was significantly higher than on any other dating site that I've seen. I'm pretty sure that this positive correlation between Tinder profiles and attractiveness suggests that a large percentage of attractive single men in this city are not interested in settling down (well, not all of them are single), but that's an in-depth social experiment for another day. Of course, it wouldn't be the first time I'd heard it suggested. A woman at a Catholic function here in the city once told me that her brother wanted her to move to Texas because men in New Orleans are players. She'd never find a husband here, he'd said. I think I might have accidentally scoffed out loud. Texas? "Players"? But maybe she was right.
(As a side note, if you want to read something hilarious, check out the posts on the meaning of the word "player" on UrbanDictionary.com. These are not definitions. These are angry women. And they are awesome. This one is my favorite:
A male who is skilled at manipulating ("playing") others, and especially at seducing women by pretending to care about them, when in reality they are only interested in sex. Possibly derived from the phrases "play him for a fool", or "play him like a violin." The term was popularized by hip-hop culture, but was commonly recognized among urban American blacks by the 1970s.
A certain class of low-rent, slack-jawed f***ups has decided that backstabbing and misogyny are totally radical, so the word is sometimes used as a compliment or term of endearment between male friends, as in the greeting "what's up, player?".
Gina thought she had found the love of her life when she met Sean, but after she found out he had slept with three of her best friends, she realized that he was nothing but a player.)
My favorite Tinder discovery, though, actually came this afternoon when "Pierre, 29" showed up on my screen. Like Pierre Thomas, New Orleans Saints running back. I stared at the screen, frozen. And then I laughed. And then I came up with multiple theories/thoughts on the subject:
1. Pierre Thomas is a real human being. Real human beings sometimes use Tinder. Maybe he really uses Tinder.
2. Someone created a false Facebook account for Pierre Thomas and creepily added pictures of him, his friends, and his dog.
3. Andrea Williams is going to sign up for Tinder as soon as she reads this.
4. "Pierre, 29" has not signed into Tinder since the beginning of October. Maybe he found a nice girl. Maybe he gave up on the site. Maybe Sean Payton told him to stop f***ing around on the internet and run the damn ball. We are only 4-4, Pierre! Do you want another Superbowl ring or not?
In sum, Tinder is serving its purpose well. It has made me laugh. It has given me the opportunity to mindlessly waste time. It has let me people-watch via the internet. I don't expect that it will amount to anything on the actually-dating-people front, but I didn't really join for that. Swipe right if you're with me.
PS. In case you were wondering, I did swipe right on Pierre Thomas. I mean, come on. It's Pierre Thomas.
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