I recently turned 21 years old. My parents got me a watch, the old-fashioned kind that ticks and tocks. As I admired the leather band on my wrist I came to the realization that my biological clock was also ticking. I love babies. I want one, but I’ve also been single for the past 21 years. So, on my birthday I decided that I was going to change my life. I was going to date, because dating leads to relationships, which leads to marriage, which leads to BABIES.

Long story short, I downloaded Tinder…again. I went on date with a guy; we’ll call him Dan. He was nice. We went on a second date, he was still nice. And then we had a third “date”…

I was nervous about this third date because he asked me to come hang out at his apartment. I was super clear about my expectations:

“Sure, but just to make sure that we’re on the same page, I want to take things slow and I’m not going to sleep with you,” I told him over text.

“Haha don’t worry, I already picked up on that vibe,” he replied.

So, I gave my dad his address, and headed over. It wasn’t long before Dan dimmed the lights and dove in for the kill. Not a classy move on his part, but I’d never been kissed before and I kind of just wanted to get it over with.

He lightly lapped his tongue in and out (around?) my mouth. I tried to participate but I increasingly felt like I was just getting in the way. Kissing was not at all how I had imagined it. Did my trashy romance novels lie to me?

The minutes ticked by, reminders of my withering biological clock. His hands started to roam. I opened my eyes. Panting, he broke off the kiss to move to my neck. Even in the dim lighting I could see that he was extremely flushed.

I took stock; I was less turned on than I am in my neutral state.

Finally, he broke away.

“You have a nice butt.” He announced.

“Thank you?”

“You never show it off though. Like you don’t dress like most of the girls that I go out with. They all wear leggings, and push-up bras and mesh tops.”

“Yeah, I don’t dress like that.” I agreed.

“Yeah, I got that vibe.” he replied, leaning in to kiss me again. He clambered on top of me, shoving his tongue in my mouth. I tried to lap back, seriously puzzled by this kissing thing. He once more ran his hands over me, but this time he added dry humping my leg for good measure. It was definitely too intense for my first kiss but I also didn’t stop him. I was waiting to feel something, anything. Mostly, I was starting to feel like a doll.

After a while, he rolled off of me, looking slightly frustrated. We sat in silence.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”


“Are you a virgin?”


“Yeah, you give off that vibe” He paused, “It’s cool though, so am I.”

“That’s cool too” I answered. He didn’t give off that vibe, but I’m not one to judge.

“I’m not actually a virgin” he amended.


There was another silence. “It’s the first time that I’ve kissed someone” I said, feeling the need to explain my shitty kissing skills.

“Really?” he was surprised.

Maybe the problem wasn’t with me after all… I should have kept my mouth shut.


“Huh…you had your first kiss at 21?” He seemed to ponder this.

“Apparently,” I said. My biological clock gave a sad tick.

“Huh…well I’m honored…I guess? I’ve never been anyone’s first anything. Why’d you wait?”

“Because all the other guys who tried to kiss me were repulsive assholes.” I said, honestly. It really wasn’t an honor. If anything, it boiled down to convenience. 15 minutes ago, he really did seem like the best kissing option. Unfortunately, things never work out how you expect them to.

“So, what are your views on sex then?” he asked.

“I want to be in a solid relationship with someone before having sex with them.”

“Are you afraid of sex? Because, well, I don’t know if it’s like this for you, but for me I was scared for my first time because I was afraid that I would, like do sex wrong.” He paused in his monologue before continuing, “This is probably bad timing, but I think that we might be looking for different things…Like I’m not really looking for a relationship…and you give off the vibe that you’re looking to settle down” he announced.

I felt…immense relief. Any attraction that I had felt towards him had fizzled out during our make-out session. I positively beamed. “That is totally fair!” I said.

“But like, if I waited to tell you, we could have had fun for a few weeks during the in between phase.”

“I actually prefer people being upfront with me, so I appreciate you telling me now.”

He changed tactics, not at all pleased with my cheery demeanor.

“You give off kind of an unsexual vibe”

“Wow, you’re so good at picking up vibes!” I said, laughing.

He was silent, staring off into space. I scooped up my phone to look up bus schedules, deciding that it was time to start planning my escape.

“You know,” he finally said, “You’re never gonna have children at this rate with the amount of sexual action you’re getting.” He seemed genuinely upset.

I decided that I should probably say something comforting: “Oh don’t worry! There’s always turkey basters and sperm banks.”


Swipe Right?

I’m part of that technological generation: internet, computers, and cell phones. Last time I went phone shopping, I wanted one of those sliding flip phones with the keyboards, like I had when I was younger. I wanted to be brought back to my childhood. At the age of 20, technology makes me feel ancient. Unfortunately for me, we don’t have those sliding flip phones with the keyboards anymore; we have smart phones. So that’s what I ended up getting, a smart phone. It was the cheapest one that I could find, and somehow it still has the capacity to store my whole life in its plastic casing. My generation stores everything on their phones.

Our schedule is no longer stored in little notebooks–planners, we used to call them.

Our conversations are no longer spoken. Instead, they’re stored in text messages with little emojis to make up for all the missing inflections.

Our lust is no longer stored in our pants, our love no longer in our hearts. It’s all in our phones–all of it.

Lately, I’ve been looking for romance and l finally conceded that it might be easier to get asked out online. I’m not sexist, but I do think that guys should be the ones to ask women out. My reasoning is as follows: anatomically speaking boys and girls are different, thus we suffer differently. Women have to suffer through childbirth and therefore men should suffer through sticking their necks out a bit to ask someone on a date.

I downloaded my first dating app. I started off small and got Jswipe. However, I soon discovered that it offered very limited choices and I was unimpressed with the intelligence of the male population using it.

“Wow, you’re a twin?” One guy wrote to me, “I always wished that I had a twin, but I feel like we’d compete over everything!”

“We haven’t competed over anything since the womb. In fact we’re completely different people.” I answered.

“Really? That’s interesting because you share the same genetic coding, you know.”

“Yeah really…there’s environmental factors that get switched on too.”

“Cool…what are you up to?”


“What are you painting?

“A skull.”

“Some jolly rogers dancing with booze?”

“It’s for a birthday card actually.”

“Oh that’s nice.”

The next day he messaged me again, “Hey, Artsy Fartsy”

After that I decided to scrap Jswipe and try Bumble, but I hated making the first move. What are you supposed to say to a total stranger besides “Hey”? I was so desperate, I researched it. I didn’t like what I found, which was either shitty pick up lines or questions about how you like your toast, along with warnings not to say “Hey” because it’s for horses. For the most part I just stuck with “Hey”. If a guy seemed interesting, I’d go the extra mile and slap a “what’s up?” onto the end. Most of them still answered, but lost interest upon discovering that I’m not interested in hookups.

Guys can’t make the first move on Bumble but if they really want to talk to you they can extend the match for another 24 hours. If this unfortunate event happens to you, Bumble, the app that claims to empower women, sends out the following message, “Lucky lady! What a compliment! Blah Blah used his one chance to extend a match today on you.” It comes complete with a bee emoji, because men: they are our bees.

Finally, I scrapped Bumble and downloaded Tinder, an app which I had sworn up and down I would never, ever use. I broke that promise, and now I’m just left with a whole bunch of dumb texts from strangers.

It’s exciting at first. A boy sent me a message! He thinks I’m cute. That’s almost as exciting as a boy actually getting the balls to talk to me in person for dating purposes. It’s not something that happens very often nowadays. Along with lust and love, balls are now being stored in our phones, and hence shrinking with every generation. Soon we’ll be procreating online too.

On Tinder, most guys can fall into one of three categories.

First up is “Sleazy/Bossy”. Guys in this category have lame pick up lines and just want to get into your pants. They say things like:

“Sexy name”

“Sooo cute”

Or “Haha good match”. To this I replied, “Is it?” The guy totally unphased, proceeded to ask me more questions. I didn’t answer right away. I was eating dinner. Less than half an hour later he sent another message, “You don’t talk much, huh?” I let silence do the talking for that one. He didn’t seem to get the memo though and messaged me again a few days later.

I asked a different guy what he was looking for on Tinder. I really didn’t know anything about him, except that he’s probably a crappy driver since most of our conversation consisted of him explaining how he accidentally drove into a wall the day before. He answered my question promptly, “I’m going to be honest. I’m looking for an interesting woman. Next step would be to see if there’s a connection. Sometimes I run into girls on Tinder who are just looking for a hookup. I’m okay with that too.”

I like things to be clear so I told him that I’m not one for hookups and I’m looking for a relationship.

My phone quickly pinged with his reply, “Let’s not negotiate it like it’s a contract. We can grab coffee this week.” I once again let my silence speak for me.

The second category is what my brother calls “Sad Sacks”. These guys are insecure and feel sorry for themselves, often coming across as manipulative.

I spent quite a while texting this one guy. He seemed nice and was also looking for a relationship. I was beginning to wonder why he didn’t just ask me out for coffee already when he once again messaged me to see how my day went.

“It was great,” I wrote, “I had an interview for a photography gig.”

“Model?” He asked.

“No photographer. I don’t really like having my picture taken.”

“If you had said model I would have believed you. You’re really pretty”

“Thanks” I answered.

“Probably too pretty to go out on a date with me”

I decided to wait to answer. My first reaction was, “why, what a manipulative bastard.” I did swipe right after all, so obviously I didn’t find him completely repulsive. I was annoyed but unsure. Was I overreacting? My answer came when he messaged me again less than an hour later, “Guess I was right, haha” he said. I didn’t answer. I decided that we were no longer on speaking terms, but a few days later he sent me yet another message, “Hey, are you still around?” I didn’t bother with a reply. “Silence speaks louder than words,” is becoming my Tinder moto.

The third category is called “I Just Want a Hot Pen Pal”. These guys just want to talk to strangers with no desire to actually meet anyone. Some of them even live far, far away.

Despite having my account on local settings, I somehow matched with a guy who lives in New York.

“So what’s the reason for Tinder he asked me after we finished with pleasantries.

“I’m looking for a relationship” I said. I feel stupider every time I write that line–I’m looking for a relationship. “What about you?” I asked.

“Just want to get to know people. And in that case I have to say that I live in New York City.”

After further inquiry, I found out that he was in fact at that very moment in New York. “So basically you just want to talk to strangers?” I tried to clarify.

“Yeah” He answered.

I tried to wrap my head around this. I hate texting strangers, and I don’t know why anyone would want to do it without the end goal of actually meeting the person. Also, in that case why just girls? What are you doing on the other end of the line?

Sometimes I try to be nice though, so I just typed back a quick “cool” and left it at that.

Yet another guy seemed pretty nice. We joked around a bit and talked about how photography gigs don’t pay enough. Eventually, I asked him what he was looking for on Tinder.

“I just wanted to see what all the hype was about” he answered, “You?”

Once again feeling stupid, I said that I was looking for a relationship.

“It’s even harder to find a good one of those than it is good photography gigs” He told me, “have you had any luck so far?”

I said no, only comedic insights.

“Care to share?” he asked.

“Mostly just bad pickup lines, like ‘ You write? Wow I’m sensing some 50 shades of grey style stuff here!’”

“I hope you gave him some props for that,” he joked, “or is BDSM not your style ;)?”

“Not my style, I’m thinking of joining a convent and our good Lord does not approve of violence.”

“By giving yourself to the lord you shall be set free,” he agreed. After that the conversation soon died down.

And our bonus category is “OMG, I know you!” I’ve had tinder for almost two weeks now and I’ve only run into one person that I know, but apparently it’s a thing.

After matching with this friend of mine, I sent him a message, “Jee, don’t you look familiar.”

“Lol, small world eh?”  he answered.

I agreed and complimented the funny quote that he had written on his profile.

“Haha, thanks yours too. Oh wait…” He replied making fun of my lack of any information what so ever on my profile.

“Silence Speaks louder than words,” I texted back.

“How’s that working out for you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Guys need to go to school for how to woo a girl.”


“How are you liking tinderland?” I asked unable to quell my curiosity.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Girls need to go to school for how to woo a guy”

“You can always bond over makeup,” I joked because he’s involved in theatre and occasionally has to wear makeup.

“Oof, taking away my masculinity. That’s no way to my heart” He retorted, and I’m reminded of why I’m single–I have a very charming way with words.

“Sorry, I’ll make it better!!! Even when you wear makeup you look like man,” I amended.

“I’m swooning. Good save”

“Why, thank you”

Our conversation was the most fun that I’ve had on Tinder. After my adventures in Tinderland, I’ve come to the conclusion  that certain things, like lust, love and balls can’t be squished into a smart phone.