I Thought I Was Supposed to Be My True Self? Another Adventure on The Tinder
After approximately 2 billion swipes left (nope) and right (why not?), I finally got another match on the Tinder.
Her profile name?
"Hopeful."
Well, that's already one more hopeful person than I expected to find on the Tinder.
Hopeful is a straight, 5'8" woman who describes herself as:
"Down to earth, laid back woman that is looking for something real..."
Excellent.
She also wants:
"Someone that can be just there true self, no lies, no games no drama just your true self no matter what and I will be the same!"
First, I believe we're looking for their true self.
But this is the Tinder, not the SATs. I'm not grading anyone.
More importantly:
Great! Imma be my true self.
Because I don't know how to be Matt Damon.
Her profile also provides some important intelligence. She doesn't like receiving nude selfies—which seems like an extremely reasonable policy—works out sometimes, smokes, which I don't, and drinks on special occasions.
Fine.
So I start the conversation:
"Good evening, Hopeful!"
I had a sneaking suspicion her parents didn't look at their newborn daughter and say, "She's beautiful. Let's name her Hopeful."
Turns out I was correct.
Her name is Chrissy.
We start chatting. I throw in some humor. She seems to like it.
Excellent.
I tell her that I think I'm actually funnier in person.
Also excellent.
We're talking about what we're doing Thursday. I mention some completely innocuous stuff about my day. Nobody has attempted to sell cryptocurrency to anyone. Nobody claims to be conducting "market research" in Augusta.
We're making progress!
Then I mention my sobriety.
Record scratch.
The conversation takes a turn.
She asks:
"So is that you drink now or no"
I explain that no, I don't drink. I've been sober for a little over 17 years.
But I also explain that I don't care if other people drink—as long as they're responsible about it.
I'm sober.
I'm not the Soup Nazi.
NO CHARDONNAY FOR YOU!
Drink your wine. Have your cocktail. Order a beer.
I'm not going to leap across the table and slap a margarita out of your hand.
This conversation happened Thursday at around 4:30 p.m.
I sent a few more messages afterward.
I even asked if she'd like to talk on the phone, since her profile said that's her preferred method of communication.
And then...
Crickets.
Not even Tinder crickets.
Those crickets have probably unmatched me too.
Which leaves me slightly confused.
Wait a minute, Chrissy.
I thought you wanted someone who could be:
"Just their true self."
That's exactly what I did!
I didn't lie.
I didn't play games.
I didn't create drama.
I didn't pretend to drink.
I didn't pretend to be Matt Damon.
I showed up as my true self, just like the advertisement requested.
Apparently there were terms and conditions.
And here's what really makes me laugh:
Her profile says she drinks "on special occasions."
Is having someone who drinks booze really that important when you only drink sometimes yourself?
Maybe there's an annual Cabernet Festival I don't know about.
Maybe Valentine's Day requires tequila.
Maybe I'm supposed to hold the wine glass while she drinks it.
I have questions.
Of course, maybe she just got busy. Maybe she'll respond eventually. Maybe she met somebody else. That's dating.
But if the sobriety conversation is what killed it, that's pretty funny.
Because after dealing with fake profiles, scammers, crypto investors, mysterious 6'6" women named Hamit, and everything else I've encountered on the Tinder, I finally did exactly what a profile asked:
I was my true self.
And apparently my true self got left on read.
Maybe next time I'll try being Matt Damon.
