The Varieties of Tinder Experience

(with apologies to William James)

This is not an inclusive list. It omits all of the women I really enjoy interacting with. But, alas, it includes 98% of the women I actually interact with.

1. The scam/escort. There’s a weird profusion of these. Given how hard it was for me to set up a (semi-?)legitimate Tinder profile, I’m kinda awed by the volume of these. They tend to have some characteristics in common. Usually, they’re pretty, but not spectacularly hot, women. Often, they have one or two pictures posted. Often, they have two pretty women in one or both of their pictures. Often, there are no words in the profile. If there are words, they something like, “Just here for a good time!” Or, “Just moved here from [insert faraway destination] and looking for fun!” If there’s any text, there always are exclamation points.


2. The child. These are usually 18-25-year-old women. They often feature hot/sexy pictures in their profiles and links to their Instragrams. They’re tons of fun to look at. Occasionally, they’re fun to interact with online. Usually, they’re DTF. Which is, honestly, not a turn-on to me, generally.

I like women who want to fuck me, not women who want to fuck someone. I like women who want to make plans, not women who want to meet right fucking now.

Sometimes, these women are interested in me, but they usually feature some combination of flakiness and intimidation that makes them hard to sustain an interaction with. Also? They tend to use “words” like “u” and “r,” which make my dick not just soft, but terminally soft.

I remain open to the possibility that somewhere, somehow, one of these will prove to be a fun companion. Sofia, after all, was in this age category, and she’s no child. As was Veronique – a bona fide grown-up, to be sure. And a couple of others, along the way. But my recent experiences have been mostly horrific. Including one who was insanely hot, and insanely promising, but just filled with the most deeply unsatisfying bratty attitude, causing us to crash and burn in a way that left me with virtual blue balls.

3. The BBW. Somehow, I seem to be like catnip for bigger women. I wish to god I were more attracted to bigger women, because my sex life would be so much easier if I were. But, alas, I’m just not. I continue to fight against this. I want to enjoy fat women, to be turned on by an enthusiastic, bigger woman. I have no judgment, no disgust, no distaste. It’s just the case that among all the things that turn me on, fatness isn’t one. And among all the things that turn me off, fatness often is one. Not my choice. I swear.

4. The closet sub. I get a lot of women swiping me right because I’m dominant. The mere fact of my dominance “intrigues” a lot of women. It seems like what they want is for me to produce, on the spot, a sort of uber-confident-dominance that aligns perfectly with their fantasies. This rarely works out. Usually what happens is I say, “I want x,” or, “Please do y,” and it turns out that they didn’t want my dominance – they wanted to submit in the way that I’m willing to submit: to someone who provides a species of dominance that is a mirror image of their desires.

There are others. I’ll enumerate them anon, I expect. But this is a start.


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