
When someone uses French or words like ‘Sapiosexual’ to describe themselves, something in my head goes, ‘oh highfalutin’ and I quietly left swipe.
The steps I follow in this online shopping for men is: Looks -> Age -> Bio.
There are bios that read, “Eww! Texting based on judging other’s Photoshopped pics!”, that maybe “eww” for you but I am making my mind about buying a product and I need my information upfront. Photoshopped or otherwise.
Sometimes, I go on an auto swipe just to play with the algorithm. And since this is a social experiment, I do it often and get right swiped back.
Recently, I right swiped a bio that read: author, bibliophile, chef,…etymologist… flaneur, poetry, sapiosexual, traveller….xenophile, etc, etc. I’d never bother with a flaneur but then there was that rare thing called poetry and that got me hooked. We had a match and the conversation started.
I told him about my interest in etymology. The conversation picked up from there, he told me where humour comes from.
Next was poetry and there was a lot to talk about. He talked about Ben Okri, I mentioned Hafiz and slipped in #100IndianTinderTales project. He was intrigued and wanted to see it and I shared the Instagram link. He asked me if we could move to Whats App. I said no.
The next morning, he complimented me on my riveting work. I ignored the choice of adjective and told him I was busy exercising. A little later, he said he would like to contribute a story. I gave him my number. We moved to Whats App. That morning I was busy working while he was ‘sitting on a crater of ennui’.
I asked to be excused as I was feeling inspired after days. He sent me a forward, this time about the etymology of the word dashboard and checked if I was free. I said no.
Then a little later he said he wanted to share his Tinder tale, a poem he wrote on a whim – “…as an indirect rebuttal to a conceited and arrogant person I met on Tinder who was brazenly rude and highfalutin. A first instance where I told a lady that she is non grata on my list ……..which means I like people who accept their own and others fallibility and do not stand on a proverbial higher ground all the time.”
Phew! I decided not to reply and wanted to tell him he was non grata on my list but instead I just ignored.
That evening I stepped out and ran into the man I had my first crush on. At 40 he still looked ravishing, I came home feeling like I had seen my favourite painting and then I looked at my phone. It was flooded with messages and forwards from Mr Sapiosexual full of words I’d never use in everyday conversation.
It felt like I was stuck in the play Pygmalion and my lesson: Sapiosexual = brain eater. Am never buying that product. Ever. And when I have Internet as my first love why would I want a sapiosexual person?