A Hitchhiker’s Guide to Tinder

Photo by Clem Onojeghuo

So in recent news, I started my 2nd year of uni, got my ears pierced and also got Tinder. Apart from the fact that these three are clearly a winning trifecta, arguably the latter event has been the most eventful (although finding out that apparently there was a petting zoo at your uni this week was pretty exciting).

In all honesty, I’ve really avoided Tinder because I found it a bit rapey.

Like it’s an invitation for bad things to happen. And that’s probably a terrible, broad, sweeping generalisation of Tinder but that was my honest opinion of the app. But then, I was bored one night, my brain was literally producing nothing but brain farts due to 3 hours straight of lectures, saw Tinder in the app store and just thought ‘why not’. So I downloaded it for some great times and classic hits and boy oh boy has it delivered.

giphy (1).gif

Firstly, I was so so so sceptical to link my Facebook to the app. Like hello, obviously I want to be as private as possible?! But then I realised this was near impossible so I had to weaken my anally retentive tight grip on my cyber security. Cool, so I now have a profile. Yay, this is promising!

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Actually though. – GIPHY.com

However, I then see that:

a) I have no profile picture – although this was easily fixed.
b) I am apparently 40 years old.

The second part was a bit harder to change. As my Tinder was now linked to my Facebook which I got when I was 10 (absolute rebel here), obviously I made my birth year 1975. Which made me a solid 40, turning 41 this year. And before you ask, yes my skin is still this tight and no, I surprisingly haven’t had a boob job (yet). So I went into my Facebook and changed my birth year, changed my photo on Tinder and thought that was it.



Me exactly as I entered the world of Tinder. – GIPHY.com

Nek minnit I’ve swiped up accidentally and this big blue ‘SUPER LIKE’ flashes across my screen and before I know it I’ve managed to super-like someone’s profile. Which would be fine if it was a hot guy. But no. It wasn’t a hot guy. It was actually an 18 year old girl.

I’m starting to realise that me on Tinder is even worse than a grandma on Facebook. I literally have no clue what I’m doing and my phone appears to keen to get me my ‘gay college experimentation’. So I go back into my settings on Tinder and to my flipping shock horror I see that my profile is even worse than before. I’m now a 40 year old woman who happens to be interested in women from 18-23.

Why. WHY. WHY.


If changing my sexuality wasn’t enough I’m now also a cougar? Snatching the babies straight out the cradle?! Plz. This is even worse than that time my friend wanted a refund on his Cadbury Creme Egg because it had no creme in it, only to be told by a bemused 7/11 server that he bought a Marvelous Creations instead.

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What my Tinder profile should actually be – GIPHY.com

So I set my preferences settings to men and clarify to the world that I’m not a lesbian. I try refreshing my app to get my age correct and go off swiping again.

I swear to God I swiped left (aka ‘no’ for all the Tinder noobs out there) for a good 30 minutes. There have been  many things about the male mind that have puzzled me over the years, but I think it was really epitomised in my Tinder troll tonight. To help unjumble the mish-mash of thoughts in my head right now, I’ve collated them in a handy dot point list below:

Dear men of Tinder, 

  • It’s confusing when you make your photo one of you and a girl. It’s really not helping you out and defeats the purpose of you being on Tinder. 
  • Alternatively, it’s annoying when your photo is of you and a hot mate and the poor swiper has to realise that you’re actually the unattractive plop in the photo and you’re using your hot friend to pull the matches. It’s also very confusing. 
  • If your bio is ‘swipe right for the gun show’ I will guarantee you there will be a -5 success rate. 
  • A photo of your cat covering your balls whilst the rest of you lies naked on the bath tub is not appealing in the slightest. 
  • However, if you make your profile photo of crispy bacon and call yourself Bacon then you will definitely receive a super like from me. 


Yours sincerely,
Moy, the Tinder Virgin. 

I think Tinder Virgin is the best way to describe myself right now. I actually had to Google ‘how do you know if someone has super-liked you?’ because I was that clueless as to how this damn app works. But alas, it was all for nothing as I found that the person who super-liked me was just some creep who enjoys cheese in his spare time. And being a self-diagnosed semi-lactose intolerant/I just hate cheese in general, I was in no mood to chat about Gouda.

And unfortunately the guy was no Channing Tatum. Picture source: pinterest.com

This has definitely been fun experimentation. Will I actually use it seriously? No, probably, most definitely, not. Will I use it when I’m bored AF and want to troll and judge other people’s bad haircuts? Absolutely.

Keep swiping until you find me,

Newly professed Tinder expert, Moy.

6 thoughts on “A Hitchhiker’s Guide to Tinder

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