Obviously, it’s shallow, this seemingly infinite supply of women to positively or negatively appraise in a millisecond.And, men being far more shallow than women, it actually doesn’t play to our strengths in the mating ballet.
“Hey I saw that you’re also friends with (mutual friend). I can’t remember which one but your face looks ridiculously familiar, and I think we talked about My Little Pony or something. For the optimistic, outgoing gent of very, very slightly above average looks (as I have self-diagnosed), Tinder is a mind-bending assault on your self-esteem.An ego-obliterating exercise in facing the painful truth, and a lightning-fast lowering of standards.Occasionally, someone not too shabby looking emerges, pictured by the roadside in a pretty obscure bit of Uganda and you get all excited and want to message them and say, “Bloody hell, I’ve been there too. In that respect (and not only in that respect) Tinder is a giant leap backwards in the boundaries of the possible.Despite having her stare out of the phone at you, a fellow user of a social networking interface, you are divided by an enforced wall of silence.The could-go-either-way types who come in the middle of a run of decent ones will make the cut.