How to Tinder- a guaranteed guide to failure in online dating

Names and Faces in this post have been changed to protect actual people who matched with me on Tinder. If friends or future employers found out they accidentally thought I was attractive, it could ruin reputations and lives forever. 

For those unaware, Tinder is a dating app for your smart phone.
It is how modern 21st centurions get dating done.
Here's how it works.

For your personal profile you get five pictures and some letters to introduce yourself to prospective matches.

 You then peruse your way through scores of interesting prospects.

If you decide you wouldn't mind "meeting" someone, you tap yes instead of no. You can say no to as many faces as you'd like. There's no limit on that. If they see your profile and also hit yes, then you've got a match and can now text each other.

As fun as the idea of texting a total stranger might be, it surely doubles the fun Wrigley's style in actual practice. Usually one or the other person sends a greeting like, "hi"
or "hey there" if they're really interested. The receiver then sends nothing back having realized from the greeting that you are indeed the most boring person ever born.

For many twenty-first-centurions, this app is a wildly successful way of meeting fascinating new people, growing new friendships, and finding ever deepening romantic connection in the hectic flurry of current futuristic earth living.

For others, Tinder proves to be as successful as waving at passing cars during rush hour.

Things were piling up in my own silent match section so I decided to try something different to see if I might elicit some kind of response.

On with the spirit animals.

I started pretty benignly with real animals like Bengal Tiger, River Otter, and SouthWestern Box Jellyfish.

Then I started making them up.

That got em.

One girl wondered if White Striped Ibex was the name of my band.
I responded sadly, but affirmatively that they "were"

...until the water buffalo attack.

To finish up: If you've ever been mauled by a house cat, consider this photo. 

Does this look like a good place to touch a lion? 

Once again, this photo has been tampered with. That is not HER face, but it is A face and the expression is true to her original intentions. Apologies to whoever's face this really is, but you were on google images and I don't know you at all. It seemed less than insulting since you're now pictured doing death defying things of an adventurous nature. This would make a good resume photo.

 I think the original was of you with a birthday cake. Through the magic of digital photo processing, POOF! It is now, a lion.

I hope this free advice guides many of today's singles to not be.
You're welcome.

This is not a dating blog

but trying to date ends up being the main source of comedy in my life. Drama is said to be a person wanting something badly and having a hard time getting it. Comedy is supposed to be that, but with more pain. Horror is the same thing, but with more running and knives.

Danced with someone new. Started talking with her just to be nice. Probably wasn’t going to ask for her number or anything. Just dancing to dance. I talk about when I first started coming and how it took me months to get the hang of it. 

“how old are you?” She asks. 

 Great question. Thank you for that. 

     I hear myself say, “32.” like announcing the Sesame Street number of the day.

     a pause as we continue dancing. 

     I feel like I ought to say something. “Is that awkward?”

     “No.” she blinks.            

     “How old are you?” I smile.

     “18.” She spins past.

     While spinning back she asks, “Is that awkward for you?”

     “No.” I exclaim. 

     But you can’t just say that. I'm not going to let a little age difference make things weird.  I think of something to say:
 

     “You’ve got to start dancing some time. 18s a good age. I didn’t start till I was 23.” 

     Way to patch that up old man. Yeah. Make yourself really relatable by referring to a long time ago when you were 5 years older than she is now. Nice. Way to brainiac the math outta  that one. She probably easily calculated that she was 13 when you started danc- Actually you put that through a calculator and find out she was not 13 when you were 23.
She was 9.
You don’t subtract 5 years from 18 imbecile, you subtract 23 from 32. That’s 9 years. Way to relate to the young people of today. Way to freaking go…

Here is a real life representation of how I came across:    
 "half your life ago I was starting to dance just like you are now starting to dance I eat TV crackers tunafish dum dumdum!"

Awesome.