Would it be impolite to ask him to Snapchat me a gum-shot, so I can be sure he's not a toothless hick?His main profile pic includes three of his mates (those are almost worse than the sneaky selfies because you don't know if you've pulled an alpha male or his loser friend) but we have a mutual acquaintance who assures me he's a "safe bloke". He's exactly the sort of 20-something that Tinder or Ok Cupid would welcome: hip, active on social media, possibly polygamous (a cheat), but authentic and upfront about it.Tinder uses your existing social networking data from Facebook to locate people in the immediate vicinity, tell you a bit about them, whether you have any friends in common and (most importantly) show you a pic.It has slimmed down the emotional, cognitive and financial investment required by the virtual dating process to one simple question: “Do I want to do you?” What more modern way to make that most basic binary decision of whether you want to shag someone than a game of real-world "Hot or Not"?
Saturday We ended up in the sort of Soho tequila bar where dinner dates come to die.
As a trailblazer of casual sex and being skint, I am allegedly the prime example of the demographic that is turning to the Tinder i Phone app.
If you believe the hype, a growing number of people like me are getting repetitive strain injury from swiping 'yes' to intimate invitations from relative strangers.
Tinder totally complements my lazy and attention-seeking personality. It usually takes me a few drinks to start talking to strangers but, thanks to my i Phone, I'm now virtu-flirting while I wee.
It's as compulsive as moodboarding baking projects on Pinterest: swipe, scroll, drool, click, reload. Wednesday The localised aspect of the app hits me tonight – at my local. I don't even need to leave my sofa to flirt, let alone risk liver damage in pursuit of enough Dutch courage to politely humour a clinger for 45 minutes.