Never in my life have I consumed an alcoholic concoction to get rid of a hangover; this to me sounds like an express pass to a deeper circle of hell.
But after a recent ridiculous, disproportionate heartbreak, complete with Beyoncé on repeat, I decided to go for a little “hair of the dog” and go back online to date. OK, binge swipe, to be more accurate.
If there’s ever a game that taps into your most basic fight or flight instincts, Tinder is it—you evaluate people based on their attractiveness, the stories their pictures tell, plus a few choice words they may or may not include on their profile. You swipe right when you like someone, swiping left is “ta-ta, weirdo.” Some of you, of course, are completely lovable—diamonds in the pants pocket of a rummage sale.
But for the rest, here are just a few reasons why I swiped left:
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- Because you’re this guy
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- Because you cry blood
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- Because I can’t compete with a well-armed militia
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- Because there is no way your reality can match my fantasies about you
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- Because I yam what I yam
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- Because if I wanted to date Elton John I would have set different parameters
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- Because you make armageddon feel really, really soon
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- Because there are not enough hugs in the world for you
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- Because you are a fucking clown
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- Because this is one of your major selling points , as is …
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- your Hitler fetish
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- Because IDGAF what you had on the way to Reno
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- Because manboob
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- Because my breath stopped when I saw it was you. I’m so close to being over you. Anyway. There’ll be another you in a minute.