The whole endeavor seems tired.“I’m going to project a really bleak theory on you,” Fetters says.
“What if everyone who was going to find a happy relationship on a dating app already did?
When the apps were new, people were excited, and actively using them.
Swiping “yes” on someone didn’t inspire the same excited queasiness that asking someone out in person does, but there was a fraction of that feeling when a match or a message popped up.
Even the worst dates were insightful, in retrospect.
And I have learned to listen more, talk a lot less, and see things from the other side of the screen.
It’s great to just talk to people and meet up with people.”“I have a boyfriend right now whom I met on Tinder,” says Frannie Steinlage, a 34-year-old straight woman who is a health-care consultant in Denver.
A great career in marketing starting, a return to my home town (Bay Area! Oh, and a four year degree from a good school was a perk too. No one reminds you that post-college, you may like to “think” you will reconnect with your High School friends, but that was a world away. Sure, they are great for networking, but even in a major city like San Francisco I found opportunities to meet people few and fleeting.
San Francisco in particular is unique because of the tech boom.
Maybe everyone who’s on Tinder now are like the last people at the party trying to go home with someone.”Now that the shine of novelty has worn off these apps, they aren’t fun or exciting anymore. There’s a sense that if you’re single, and you don’t want to be, you need to something to change that.
If you just sit on your butt and wait to see if life delivers you love, then you have no right to complain.“Other than trying to go to a ton of community events, or hanging out at bars—I’m not really big on bars—I don’t feel like there’s other stuff to necessarily do to meet people,” Hyde says.