Joseph Jarrett

I think my online persona makes it pretty obvious that I’d love to be the star of a reality show or a dating competition. If you read Mishaps & Mistakes, you could probably attest that the first half felt like you were reading biographies of the men competing for my heart. This is not accidental. We live in the age of influencers, which is also overlapping the era of dating shows and games. It really is quite a dangerous combination.

            When I turned 18 and downloaded Tinder for the first time, I genuinely believed that I was going to find an amazing boyfriend so easily. How incredibly wrong and naïve I was for that! My Tinder account is still active today after eight years, if that tells you how lucky I’ve been with that app. The biggest difference between my first couple of years on it versus the later years is that I realized how different dating app culture is. Dating apps, at their core, are shallow, performative, and unrealistic. They’re practically social media platforms with the intention of finding you a partner and sex instead of likes and comments. It took me until I was almost 21 to understand that the vast majority of the men using the apps were looking for hookups, not a long-term relationship. While most of their profiles say otherwise, it always boils down to how long can we talk before we exchange Snapchat accounts and nudes.

            After I had this realization, I gave up on the hope of finding someone seriously through a dating app. While I never once downloaded Grindr (I knew it wasn’t my scene based on what people said online), I’ve almost consistently had Tinder, Hinge, and Bumble since I became a legal adult. It didn’t matter the platform; each one gave me an opportunity to take a look into different pools of men and experiment with different types of conversation, flirting, and banter.

            I have done a number of experiments with dating app matches. For example, in January 2022, I started a game called “Tinder & Taylor.” Anytime I matched with someone new, I opened the conversation by asking the guy what his favorite Taylor Swift song was. I recorded this into a spreadsheet, in which I had color-coded by album. I had every album, single, and EP track Taylor had done typed out in this spreadsheet. I simply never knew what answers I’d get. By March 2022, I had matched with and received answers back from 164 men. One hundred and sixty-four fellas with various opinions on Taylor’s music. The most common answer was “None, I’m not a fan,” which was voted on by 24 men. The gays disappointed me, as many chose popular radio hits like “Blank Space,” “You Belong with Me,” and “All Too Well.” Very few chose album masterpieces that only true fans knew about. Fun fact, I unmatched with everyone who selected “Shake It Off” because I genuinely despise that song with my entire being. Controversial, I know.

            After this ground-breaking research project of mine concluded, I understood that I had fallen into the trap and was treating the apps in a superficial manner, which they were ultimately meant for. I was newly 22, single as could be, and treated them like a game. It got so bad at one point that I was making PowerPoints of my matches and asking my friends to vote on who I should actually consider going out with. No good ever came from it.

            To this day, I question why I keep my accounts active. It’s been nearly three years since I’ve gone on a date, I spend minimal time swiping through profiles, and I have managed to convince my delusional mind that I’m going to meet someone naturally now that I have an active social life. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t?

            So, have you had luck with dating apps, or do you feel like you just keep handing out roses to men until it becomes time to send them packing? And what Taylor Swift song would you have told me was your favorite if we matched on an app? Let me know!