I wanna tell the whole world about you
I think that that’s a sign
I’m losing self control and it’s you
It really is, one thousand times – Ellie Rowsell (Wolf Alice)
I deleted Tinder in May 2017 after I reached 1000 matches, out of those 1000 matches I spoke to around 20 of them, when I say talk I mean actually have a conversation past the classic ‘hey how are you?’ which ultimately leads to the conversation grave yard alongside other conversation closers such as ‘wuu2’ or ‘what you wearing’. Amongst these boys, 6 played guitar, 2 were vegan, 7 were at uni, 3 of them were obsessed with their cat and one even had a full time important grown up job. However at the end of the day they all turn in to the same person, the same beggy individual who will message or ring me at 1am saying ‘you awake’ or ‘wish you were here’ or the even more classic and unforgettable ‘i’m so drunk, send me a picture of your tits.’ All these boys start the same way, the hope that they’ll be different, that they won’t be the same as the others, maybe they’ll even end up being the one, but no, each and every one comes to a dramatic and bitter end resulting in sitcom worthy stories that are so ridiculous I lose all faith in the male population, however here are some of my personal favourites.
The first boy who I spoke to from Tinder lasted for a very very long time, from the end of my first year of uni right through to the middle of my third year. Although on and off he eventually became the blueprint for every classic tinder boy. To begin with he had that quintessentially British charm and he was a poster child for middle class Britain, spending his weekends playing cricket and holidaying in the south of France, it was catnip to me and we began talking 24/7. I should have known he wasn’t worth the trouble when he told me his favourite band was Linkin Park but we carried on talking until the drunken phone calls started, being rung at 2am for him to tell me he was getting with a ‘poor mans version’ of myself is laughable and makes me jealous in no way whatsoever. The real kicker came when he started to get ‘obsessed with the gym’ however in reality he never went to the gym and thought that by telling me he was gymming in order to get hench for me would of course make me so overcome with lust and passion I would fall at his feet. Everyday he would send me snapchats of his supposedly new and improved body when in reality he had clearly googled ‘six pac’ or ‘muscley arms’ and taken a photo of the screen. The turning point came when he told me he could deadlift 300kg, after only ‘committing himself to the gym for around a month’ and for those who aren’t aware that’s the size of a pony or a rather large donkey. Things came to a head after a particularly stressful day leading me to politely tell him that I knew the photos weren’t of him resulting in me being blocked and that chapter closing. Soz hun but I know that isn’t you.
Boy number 2 ended on more of a weird note, the youngest lad I had ever matched, he had perhaps one of the best names I had ever heard, but from the word go he was the most intense 20 year old I had ever spoken too having a slight obsession with hair and once coming all the way to Plymouth because I hadn’t replied to his messages. He went from 0 to 100 real quick, telling me he had feelings for me after talking for no more than a couple of days, however after a week or 2 he felt the need to get extremely drunk and of course text me declaring his undying love for me. I’m all for grand gestures and sharing your feelings, however a young lad telling you he loves you before you’ve even met is enough to make even me back off. Sorry babe, you were an absolute diamond but I wasn’t the one for you.
Boy number 3 was the closest to home, I didn’t often choose to match boys who were so close to where I lived for the fear of bumping into them when I went to Sainsburys in my slippers with a bare face resembling Sloth from the Goonies. However, boy number three took me by surprise, he was a music teacher who was slightly older but seemingly had his life together. It started how they all start, he told me his favourite band, his favourite album, his favourite film and then of course he dropped the line that always gives me heart eyes and makes me quiver like jelly…he was in a band and he wanted me to watch him play. In hindsight i’ve come to realise that there is being in a band and then there is being in a ‘band’ you know, because by band he meant ‘we sometimes play open mic night at your uni, but we can’t get a gig because we can’t play in time or tune our instruments’ which he failed to mention when he was describing the international fame his ‘band’ were set for. However the pièce de résistance came after 2 months of terrible flanter and mundane chit chat when he sent me a snapchat of a child, thinking perhaps it was his nephew or brother I of course replied ‘awww cute’ but little did I know this small little human was his child. He was a Dad. A Dad who had failed to acknowledge the existence of his own son. Sorry hun, but honesty is key, and your band was shit anyway.
Tinder boys will always be the same, all dick pics and drunk texts, however you learn so much about lads and the way they work from talking to arguably some of the oddest people you will ever encounter. After a 1000 matches you learn that some will never change, however they will always provide hours of amusement and it will forever be the biggest learning curve.