Help Me Get Off the Tinder… Set Me Up With Someone (Even Someone You Don't Like)
If you're reading this and you're happily married, dating, or know someone who is...
Please set me up with someone.
At this point, I'd even consider someone you secretly can't stand.
Why?
Because it would get me off the Tinder for at least a little while.
A few days ago I wrote about my exciting fictional career as an international drug cartel leader. If you missed that masterpiece, it's over at NielFlamm.com/blog.
Today, I bring you Episode 2 of "As the Scammer Turns."
Like most guys, I don't spend 20 minutes analyzing every profile. It's the 5 Second Rule. Mel Robbins probably didn't intend for it to be used on dating apps, but here we are.
Swipe left.
Swipe right.
Move on.
Being completely transparent, my decision is usually based on whether there's an initial physical attraction. That's online dating in about five seconds.
Then I matched with... let's call them...
"This person."
I use the word person very intentionally.
The first thing that caught my eye?
Height: 6'6".
Now, I'm not opposed to dating a taller woman. I'd happily embrace my Short King era.
The second thing?
The name.
Hamit.
Not exactly a name I hear every day, so I consulted The Google (because I'm old enough to still call it The Google).
According to The Google:
Hamit is a masculine given name of Turkish origin, derived from the Arabic name Hamid, meaning "praiseworthy" or "one who praises."
Well...
That was unexpected.
Then came the line I had been waiting for.
"What's your experience using this dating app like?"
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
I've seen enough YouTube videos and scam exposés to recognize that one.
It's one of the classic setup questions before they eventually pivot to crypto, gold, forex, or some magical investment opportunity that somehow guarantees 4,000% returns while they're conveniently gorgeous and single.
This one added a new wrinkle.
"I often encounter people trying to sell me products. Have you ever met similar strange people?"
Nice try.
That's basically a scammer asking if I've already met scammers.
It's like a burglar knocking on your door asking if you've had any recent break-ins.
Unfortunately, I forgot to screenshot my response, but I replied that the only things I've been offered so far were some version of a crypto or gold investment.
Then the funniest part happened.
A few hours later, I opened the Tinder again. I don't allow it to send notification alerts to my phone, so I only check it when I feel like it.
The entire conversation...
Gone.
Poof.
Vanished.
Either someone reported the account, or—far more likely—the dude on the other end realized I wasn't going to be an easy target and decided to move on to someone else.
I like to think I failed the scammer interview.
Mission accomplished.
So once again, I'm asking for community support.
If you know a nice, funny, emotionally stable woman somewhere around my age...
Introduce us.
Even if she's someone you've been trying to get rid of.
Let's save everyone involved from another season of The Tinder Files.
Because at the rate I'm going, my next match is going to ask if I'd like to diversify my retirement portfolio before asking what my favorite movie is.
Back on Tinder... Pray for Me
Against my better judgment, I downloaded Tinder.
It's free.
My expectations? Somewhere between "maybe I'll meet someone nice" and "I'll probably be talking to a guy named Igor pretending to be Jennifer."
I matched with someone who gave me the standard:
"I'm looking for honesty, loyalty, emotional maturity..."
Sounds promising.
Then came the question:
"What is your profession?"
I decided to run a little quality assurance test.
My answer?
"I sell heroin. Not on a corner... I'm a cartel leader."
It was obviously a joke.
I figured one of three things would happen:
She'd unmatch me immediately.
She'd laugh.
She'd call the DEA.
Instead...
Nothing.
No "Seriously?"
No "That's not funny."
No "You're weird."
Just... nothing.
I'm beginning to think the bots don't have a sense of humor.
At this rate, I'll probably delete Tinder before it figures out whether I'm Pablo Escobar or just a bald guy with a prosthetic leg who likes Coke Zero and movie theaters.
So, serious question...
How do people over 50 actually meet now?
Asking for a friend.
The friend is me.