Day 76 of 100 Indian Tinder Tales
A from Chennai
“a/s/l. 35+/f/ Chennai?
Here’s a Tinder tip: Don’t even bother.
I’ve swiped left, I’ve swiped right, I’ve deleted my account and started over again, swiping the same
people right and left again. I’ve matched and immediately unmatched with some for very valid reasons like when they say Hai instead of Hi.
Some, I’ve unmatched after a week of deep conversations that went: Hi how are you have a great day. Every. Single. Day.
With some of them, the chats weren’t so lame. Like the guy who sexted me, something I’d usually find extremely creepy and immediately block. But his sexts had proper spellings, grammar and even punctuation.
That, combined with the fact that I was slightly tipsy and alone in another country made that sexting session a good one. I couldn’t bring myself to go beyond hmmm and oooh, but what he wrote was so much better than a 50 Shades novel. He tried it again, but back in India and sober, I found it extremely meh.
Before he left India he asked me to fly over to his city for a ’24 hour sex marathon and a weekend of erotic hedonism’. Maybe if the flights weren’t as expensive, I just might have. Or maybe not. And no, I didn’t keep him. Normal chats got awkward after that an I had to let him go.
Or the guy who almost fell in love with me after just one week of chatting. He started signing off chats with Love you. I had to let him go, but since he was this sensitve-tragic-poet-emowriter type, I had to let him go very gently.
And then there is this has-been actor guy who spammed me with pictures of his days as a ‘hero’ in the 90s, his wildlife photographs (deer and and an elephant), his skyscapes (edited sunsets), and then suddenly sneaked in his dickpic! My very first dickpic! But since he has a longwinded Rajnikanth connection, my very first dickpic was at least one that is famous by association. (Wait. That didn’t sound right) I still keep him though, mainly for the lulz I get when he goes off on one of his actor/man/ manactor ego trips. But no, I’ll never meet him in person. Because that…that… thing will keep floating in front of his face whenever I look at him. *shudder*
Some of them made it to actual real life fleshandblood dates. Like the media guy who took me to a Sangeeta for dinner. (Ok, I’m not a foodsnob, but who takes someone to an idlydosavada place for a dinner date, that too the very first date 
) Anyway, the guy turned out to be much married and with a very public Facebook profile full of pictures of his wife and kid. Asshole. But I still keep him. For two reasons: One, I want to see for just how long he plans to lameass flirt with me and pester me for another date before he knows that I know. And two, I keep him for the Tamil Nadu politics inside stories, the juicy ones that don’t make it to the newspapers.
The rest have mostly been passers-by, the ones I match with when they’re in town for a day or swiping from the airport. Nice decent guys, most of them. Some have made it to Whatsapp, then even to Facebook but later fallen into that silent black hole of we’re-never-going-to-ever-meet-so-what’s-the-point-of-lame-chats.
But oh well. Like I said, Tinder in Chennai: Don’t even bother.
Tinder Fatigue. It is a very real condition. My fingers are tired, my brain is tired, my heart is tired. I am tired. And the Universe can do nothing about it.”
Induviduality 