Our frist Tinderella story followed Becky in her journey to find love. Week after week we got to hear about some of the dates she had been on, form the good to the bad. but finally Becky found love. Now we have a new Tinderella and she is waiting to tell you her stories.
Meet Aoife
Tinder. It’s made a bit of a shake-up in the world of dating, hasn’t it?
My mother asked me, in my (not quite so) vast technological knowledge, what the hell this “Tinding” was. Even now, I don’t quite know how to describe it to her.
“Well Mam, it’s supposed to be a dating app. Somewhere you can find like-minded people, possibly go on a few dates with them, then start planning a long and happy life together. Instead, it’s been taken over by people searching for a quick hook up. It’s a wonderful and charming place for me to meet your future son-in-law.”
If I told her that, I’d probably be still picking her up off the floor now.
A friend of mine once compared Tinder to the delightful/horrendus (delete as applicable to your literary taste) work of erotica, Fifty Shades of Grey – “You have to dig through miles and miles of shit to get to the good stuff.” She wasn’t wrong.
My Tinder experience so far
I’ve been on the site for a little over six months. In this time I’ve spoken to some absolute gents, but also to a few clangers. And, because it’s nice to get out of the house every once in a while, I’ve also gone on one or two (read: seven) Tinder dates. Some have been lovely. Some, I’m still recovering from the scalp damage from tearing my hair out.
I’ve had people say to me I should maybe reconsider where I look for my romantic partners- including those on the app itself.
This is a hook up place, love. I don’t think it’s for you.
Charmer.
I’ve become somewhat accomplished at what my mother would call the old “Tinding”. And, dear reader, in the course of the next while I aim to take you on a journey of self discovery and coffee shops with me. Come with me, hold my hand as we laugh, cry, groan, and collectively worry for the future of humankind in the era of the Rise of the Fuckboy.
My predecessor in this column, Becky, used to round her article off with five things learned from her Tinder week.
To be honest, the only thing I’ve learned from Tinder is that sometimes, boys are a bit silly. So instead, I’ll be leaving you with a screenshot from one of the most soul destroying, but slightly humerous, Tumblr accounts there is – straightwhiteboystexting.tumblr.com
