Tinder: Episode II – Attack of the Cretins

‘Nikki, write another blog post about Tinder’

‘Really, Queenie? I don’t know…’

‘Please, it’ll be really funny’

Why are we doing this again?

Three reasons:

What’s Tinder?

I’m fairly confident you’ll all know by now. But just in case you don’t, here are a few definitions I’ve been testing:

A dating app? Sure.

A modern day introduction service that allows you to choose the most attractive or interesting individuals within a specified radius? Maybe.

A fascinating fusion of the worst elements of humanity with the convenience of the digital age? Possibly.

A breeding ground for absolute cretins*? Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.

And I’m not bitter because some guy called me cocknose.


*Quick note before we throw the phrase ‘man-hating’ around: I don’t hate men and I acknowledge that there are probably some really nice guys on Tinder. But I stand by Tinder having a disproportionately high cretin/good ratio. That’s what gives me such great content. 

How does it work?

A photo, name and age pops up.  You swipe right if you like the look of them. Left if you don’t. You can click to see more photos and read a bio, should you feel thus inclined.

I mostly always swipe left because it turns out most people are less attractive than I imagined. I think I’ve been brainwashed by TV. Or I’m picky.

Why did you download it?

And then I’d delete it, because it made me lose faith in mankind. But then I’d get bored again and download it. Vicious cycle.

Are you going to keep saying ‘cretin’?

Yes, because I might upset my family members if I write twat or bastard too many times. 

Now, with all the FAQ formalities out the way, let’s dive in. 

Five different Tinder cretins

1. The ones who asked if I am out tonight

I have a lot of these:

A lot of people just wanted to know if I was ‘out tonight’. I’m rarely out. I’m usually sitting under a duvet watching Netflix or reading, which is almost certainly why I’m single. Nothing to do with my abrasive personality at all.

These dudes don’t seem too interested in getting to know someone, but that is fine. You do you, babes.

A few used me as a personal Trip Advisor, which is actually a role I preferred to Tinder wench:

And again. 

2. The ones who are secretly sort of sexist

For a while, I let Tinder display my job title. I like talking about my job because it’s interesting and I’m proud of it.
Some people found that difficult to digest.
Take Josh for instance.
Josh: Hey
Me: Hi
Josh: Are you like a journalist then or
Josh: ………..

 I explain that I’m a writer and that I mostly write for magazine features and the web. 

Josh: So, do you do a lot of writing or just the occasional paragraph?
Me: Well, writers tend to do quite a bit of writing. We get fired otherwise.
Josh: And only some of it gets published.
Me: Er, no. All of it gets published. Sorry, what’s your problem?

We discussed his problem. Sort of. Then… 

Josh: Girls generally aren’t good at coming back from hostile moments, so not sure an amicable exchange would be possible now.
No, Josh, no it fucking wouldn’t.

3. The ones who didn’t quite get it 

With an active imagination and a low boredom threshold, it’s almost inevitable I’m going to say ridiculous things for my own amusement. I thought I was being too far-fetched to be believed. Apparently not.

The worst bit is, I’m so sure this conversation went on for a while but I can’t find the other screenshots 🙁

It happened more than once – stupid questions usually set me off:

He let that detail slide. 

He then realised I was messing around and I felt a tiny bit bad. 

4. The ones with a fragile sense of masculinity

In my infinite wisdom, I once set my Tinder bio to:
If you like pizza and you don’t have shit tattoos, we’ll get along fine.

One day it backfired quite spectacularly.

Look, you’re smart. You know I am referring to tattoos that are shit rather than describing all tattoos as shit, right? Jordan didn’t quite see it that way. He jumped right in with:

I was fascinated. What was it? Facial tattoo of the Eiffel Tower? ‘I *heart* Theresa May’ on his left buttock? What?
He didn’t answer my question – instead he replied with:

I would like the above as a motivational poster, please.
I could have gotten annoyed, but instead I felt the urge to clarify my stance on shit tattoos. He wasn’t ‘avin any of it. 

I do. Anyone who knows me will know I describe myself as ’10/10 Nikki’. 
I replied, strangely choosing to reference a Conservative politician turned Strictly contestant – even though I knew the joke’d be lost on him:
We married last spring.

5. The ones who were incredibly awkward

There are so, so many examples to choose from.

Like Kevin, who wasn’t impressed by my Psychology degree.

Or Jonathan who didn’t have a good date yesterday:

Or Olly, who was disappointed that Tinder wasn’t the hook-up app he’d been promised:


I’m still fairly confident Tinder isn’t for me, although I won’t denounce it as being entirely terrible. Some of my friends have found genuinely wonderful guys on there – and anything that makes my friends happy can’t be too awful, can it? 
If you have any Tinder horror stories that’ll make me feel slightly less silly, I’d love to hear them! Let me know in the comments section or on Twitter
With deepest regards and affection,

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