She’s 26, with a scalpel-sharp wit, and her photos approximate my real-world tastes more than any Tinder woman so far
Things get weird fast. While waiting for Michelle to respond, I instigate conversations with both Ashley and Lori. This is the digital equivalent of hitting on a woman at a bar while the woman you’ve been hitting on is in the bathroom, a tightrope walk the analog me would never attempt.
Because Tinder is purposely casual, rendering indistinguishable the boundaries between those looking to hang out, hook up, and get hitched, I’m not even sure, as I leave to meet Ashley, if I should think of this as a “date
“Nice forearm stand,” I write to Ashley, a woman of striking cheekbones and auburn hair, who in one photo is doing the classic yoga pose, a cup of tea by her side, the newspaper spread before her, as if to convey that this is how she spends most mornings.
D. in political science – an appealing combo, since I’ve taken up yoga and pretend to be interested in politics; Lori, meanwhile, informs me that she has just graduated from LSU and, having “fallen in love with the Ebola virus,” plans to attend medical school in a year
Will she be impressed by my observational prowess? Who cares! I’ve already turned my attention to Lori. But Michelle messages me back: “Just got online… crazy week! But I’m feeling naughty! So what’s up… Want to have some fun? ;)”
Well, that was quick. While Tinder has been called “ Grindr for straight people,” a reference to the app that has become a staple for gay men looking for no-strings-attached sex, I find Michelle’s overt randiness more suspicious than titillating. I try to steer us into more innocent terrain: “What part of the city are you in?”
The question doesn’t seem to register with Michelle: “I want a guy that can make me cum….” she replies. “Have u ever made a chick orgasm?? Haha .”
As it sinks in that Michelle is probably Ulust an enterprising 15-year-old boy in Bangalore, earning pennies to direct me to a pay site, both Ashley and Lori get back to me.