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Single stories

Tinder: killer of all dreams of love and boring Tuesday afternoons. Welcome to the episode of my life named Day Off With No Plans Turned Into Afternoon Tinder Date At My Place. Nothing to be proud of, but more amusing than your average Tuesday. I guess. I had to try and test it myself before dipping the idea into a spicy sauce of judgment and rejection.

The situation: late night drunk chatting in bed. In front of a screen boys dare to say and do so much more. A polite conversation gets bombarded with dick pics and that’s that. What is it about men thinking women crave dick pics to tickle their fancy? Am I the only one who finds a sad looking penis without context very funny and not very sexy? It doesn’t do the trick. Pictures of happy dicks neither, by the way.

I fall asleep and get woken up with… another dick pic. What a truly original surprise! I make coffee and open the newspaper until my phone vibrates again. A little video. How wonderful! A penis, looking extremely happy and ecstatic. The cherry on top of my breakfast. My appetite for life is gone but the thought of turning into a lesbian keeps me going.

Is this what it means to be a single girl in Brussels? Meals ruined by male orgasms on tiny screens, dicks screaming for attention? Boy, it’s tough out there. No I’m not going to send you any photos and yes I am wearing absolutely nothing just to please your imagination. Except for my pink Betty Boop pyjamas, mascara all over my face and a breath that tells me a little baby bird must have died in my mouth while I was asleep.

“Why are you on Tinder?” He asks me. To meet people, have fun, secretly trying to figure out if anyone out here is looking for something other than sex. Negative. Another dick pic to confirm my thoughts. I kinda like the excitement of being behind a screen, people dare to do all kinds of kinky stuff in the safety of their phone. But I like awkwardness even more, so I invite the boy over. One hour later he is exactly what I expected him to be: very different from the dominant alpha male he claims to be, and looking nothing like his profile picture.

I had no plans today. With him coming over, I found a reason to clean the house and put actual pants on at 4pm. Yes, I cheered on the inside, awkwardness is kicking in. There was lots of mom talk, plenty of ex talk and I soon realised the dick pics were nothing but a cry for someone to listen to teenage insecurities.

Entertaining? Yes, indeed. Worth another try? Hell no. But my house is clean and my ego is shining with confidence. Faith in romance, love, humanity: long gone. Call me old fashioned, but please, take me back to the old days where a date was filled with excitement and I could meet the person before meeting the dick.

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