‘I can’t say I’ve ever felt the urge to hit on a girl walking home alone at night,’ Christian said. ‘That’s a good way to get maced. Though I guess you don’t need Tinder if you’re just picking them off the street like that.’ I’d filled Christian on my latest date, who had approached me as I was walking home from a gig. ‘Well he was different from the weirdos and drunk tourists who usually go for the late-night street pick-ups.’
‘Good to hear. So who is the lucky guy?’
‘An American. He was well dressed and well spoken.’
‘Well let’s hope his most memorable meal involves fewer ladies of the night this time.’ Christian was referring to my one and only Tinder date: another TMI Dutch guy.
A couple of days before the street meet, I’d updated John, the Australian who had rescued my low-maintenance weekend last year, on my love life (about as successful as my work life). ‘I’m actually fascinated by the dating scene of our generation/era. I’ve had a couple of dates lately but find the lack of sincerity/vulnerability/playfulness just kind of stark,’ John said. ‘No one seems to remember how good we were as kids at becoming close with each other and dreaming, and now it’s just a bit cynical and bleak. Do you think that’s unfair or unrealistic?’ John is a natural at starting meaningful conversations. Like me, he’s not a fan of Tinder. ‘It’s bizarre how blasé we can treat dating, but how much bad experiences or relationships can hurt us. When you think about the reality of what we’re looking for when we date, Tinder is such an incompetent tool. It just amplifies the shit that often gets in the way of solid relationships.’
‘Very few people know themselves though. Our culture doesn’t support that, and it results in so much clumsy behaviour, including dating.’ John wanted to know my thoughts and theories. I think the best way to know oneself is by getting to know others…
