In a world where COVID-19 has made pretty much everything impossible, one of the biggest social factors that has struggled from global quarantine is the dating scene. With all the bars and movie theaters closed down until further notice, many, as the case is with myself, have begun to rely on our old friend Tinder for some sort of human interaction. 

However, that isn’t to say Tinder is a good friend; Tinder is the kind of friend who asks to borrow $20 and lets his dog sh*t in your yard without picking it up. 

Tinder has created a culture of dating so toxic and ant-ipersonal that it should be moved from the lifestyle section of the app store to the arcade — all people ever seem to want to do is play games.  

Tinder has taken such a serious chunk out of my confidence and mental health. My self esteem is so low it’s currently chilling with Satan in the pits of hell.

From the very first time you open the app, you know it’s going to be a problematic experience.  Rather than caring about characteristics  like personality and common interests, Tinder instead makes all its users focus exclusively on the other person’s face and body.  

This focus on vanity and appearance immediately gives the average user a sense of entitlement and arrogance. It’s easy for someone to stick up their nose and swipe left on someone who isn’t a six-foot-five, curly haired, blue eyed eurocentric dreamboat. No one thinks to focus on a more personal connection.

In the off chance you do make a match, nothing is more painful than trying to keep up a conversation with them. Tinder and COVID-19 have coddled these people into a false sense of security where they believe they don’t have to put a shred of effort into actually appealing to another human being. Most fail to consider that they are talking to a legitimate person with their own thoughts and feelings on the other end.  

They think because the chances of actually seeing them in-person are so low, it doesn’t matter how ultimately douchey, dumb or downright egotistical they act.  The lack of actual human connection required to have a conversation on Tinder is quickly turning us into apathetic sociopaths. 

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve entered a Tinder conversation and had someone say anything along the lines of “you’d be prettier if you —” then I’d have probably 10 or 15 bucks. The fact that it’s happened that many times ought to tell you something about the way that Tinder is slowly degrading our social cues.

 Even those with the best intentions seem to have been corrupted by Tinder. Ultimately, they just end up wasting your time. There was a point in my Tinder experience when I talked to a guy for an entire month before he told me he had no interest in dating me. 

I’m of the opinion that Tinder veteran douchebags are creating a whole new generation of unintentional douchebags — turned to the dark side by their low confidence and fueled by their inability to know what they want out of a relationship.

Look, I’m aware I’m at risk of sounding like some crotchety old man whose only hobby is rambling about how technology ruins our lives, but I have never been more disappointed in the way a person can act than I have on Tinder. The incidents I cited are just some of many I’ve had to deal with, and I didn’t even have time to bring up the disgusting hookup culture.

Oh yeah, and it doesn’t help that Tinder listens to your preferences a solid 50% of the time.  Sorry to Inez from Bogota, Colombia, but you were not what I had in mind when I asked for 18-22 year old men within a 20 mile radius of Cincinnati.