A personable young man came up to me in the building lobby and asked me if I knew what Tinder is. I said I did. He asked if I'd used it. I said I hadn't.
It's some app where you hook up with people for quick, um, romance.
Then he said he had a young lady's profile up on Tinder, and was trying to figure out what to say to her. I suggested he tell her he liked her look. That's look, singular, not looks.
He said, well, her photo is of her in a bikini. And he showed me such a photo, on his phone, of a shapely young lady in a bikini. And he asked what he could say to her to set himself apart, since every guy would obviously be thinking she looked good.
I have no idea, I said. I've been married too long.
Actually, regardless of how long I've been married, how do you set yourself apart in an environment where all you know about someone is that they look good in a swimsuit?
He pressed me, but you must have a pickup line?
I smiled, sorry, no.
So... What was really going on in this exchange? It felt very stagey, but I still have my wallet, and he never pressed for anything but answers to his silly question. Was it a psychology or sociology experiment? Why on earth would a young man be asking ME for advice on how to use Tinder? Especially because the building lobby was loaded with college-age young men.
They might have a clue
as to how you pursue
the opposite sex
with some minimal text
sufficiently clever
that she won't say: Never!
4 comments:
One of the singularly uncomfortable things I remember from college was a guy walking up and complimenting my shoes with way too much enthusiasm.
I didn't figure out what the point of it was, but the one-minute exchange sticks in my head twenty years later.
p.s. A good answer to the Tinder question is a funny, gentle insult or a very specific compliment.
That makes complete sense!
Yeah, deeply into the weird interaction category with you singled out for special attention.
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