None of us are strangers to lonely nights. The ones that sit uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach like a bad meal; those achy, late hours that make you contemplate your own mortality. Those nights where your left hand just doesn’t cut it. Nights where you’d rather have your fingers wrapped around a ten-inch cock or a slab of cheesy pizza (or both.) Sadly, life isn’t that pretty or perfectly sweet. And loneliness, well, it comes to us all.
If your existence is in any way as mundane as mine, your evenings are probably spent on your phone, masturbating until your wrist muscles creak, mindlessly scrolling through twitter or lying on your bed twitching like a half-crushed spider. It’s on those nights, I find myself forced to entertain a truly horrific notion.
I am of course referring to the festering skid-mark on the underpants of the digital dating world; an app that’s more commonly used as a dick-pic dispensary; the gay version of a Pokédex. A creation forged deep in the putrid bowels of the Hades Apple Store. I am of course talking about Grindr.
A few weeks ago, on such a lonely night, I let my judgement be clouded by a haze of desperation. Eventually I snapped and so I re-downloaded the app.
If you have never used Grindr before then I suggest closing this tab; this site isn’t for people of your calibre, or with your level of self-respect. However, if you decide to keep reading then allow me to illuminate your ignorance by sharing with you a typical Grindr experience.
Grindr has somehow earned itself the mantle of ‘dating app’, which is a formidable achievement. Especially considering it’s not really a conventional dating app at all, more a big, online bin full of blank profiles and discount hobgoblins (also the occasional penis to lighten the mood.)
You sign in to find that half of its users look like a rejected prop from a Ghostbusters movie while the other half greet you with unsolicited nudes. It’s like logging into a dystopian future where the art of conversation has withered and the once simple ‘hello’ has been replaced with an intimate shot of someone’s colon. You don’t receive compliments, you receive dick pics and frankly, it’s awful. Nothing makes me want to chew off my own arm more than receiving a dick pic from an anonymous stranger. It’s the equivalent of a cat bringing you a dead bird as a present.
Yet as heinous and unholy as Grindr is, there’s no shortage of characters on it that’s for sure. And since it was one of those lonely nights and I wasn’t leaving the flat any time soon, I grabbed my phone, logged on and prepared to savour what would surely be the most powerfully underwhelming experience imaginable.
Within 0.7 seconds the first dick pic flopped into my messages. I clicked open and there it was, staring at me, looking like a chubby, throbbing thumb after a brutal hammer smashing. The culprit wasn’t much a better. He was an older man who sported a freshly shaved head and a white, elongated goatee combo that made him look like a cross between an evil wizard and a sick, alternative Santa. Nevertheless, I pressed on.
Seven minutes later I realised something; there was no way the sort of guy I pictured in my head would be found on Grindr. I needed to lower my standards and adjust my expectations – which I didn’t think was possible – as here are the type of guys I encountered on Grindr:
Type One: The Unblockables:
The guy who (no matter how many times you block him) keeps coming back like a monster in a movie, or an unpaid bill, or casual racism. He will hound you so incessantly that you’ll consider going into Witness Protection just to get away from him. Then, even after that, he’d likely pop up AGAIN. These guys can take dicks but cannot take a hint. The ‘conversation’ will likely go as follows:
‘Looking good babe!’
‘Wow, you’re rude.’
‘You think you’re so hot, but you’re actually ugly.’
‘U there m8?’
‘Pathetic no wonder ur single u aborted queef weasel.’
Look, you rusted bitch. Let me ladle you a pippin’ hot bowl of how it is: I’m a mountain lion and you’re a cross-eyed dumpster cat. Leave me alone!
Type Two: The Angry Beige Guy
This one comes in a variety of tribes and is more a personality (or lack of) flaw. His conversation is about as stimulating as a light breeze gently whooshing up your anus, only not as refreshing. You’ll seldom make it past the ‘how are you’ stage. Then, when his attempts at conversation are rebuffed and met with silence, he will simply reply ‘?’???? It’s like wishing for sex but being forced to watch paint dry instead. Note: There are occasions where these guys evolve from ‘beige’ to an ‘unblockable.’
The (Overly) Self-Assured Twink
He’s barely past the age eighteen milestone, but already he’s infused with an arrogant sense of entitlement. His bio will be cold, standoffish and typed all in lowercase letters, because that’s what his idle Ariana Grande does. He won’t reply as he’s younger aka better than you. The full bloom of youth is on his side. Any attempts at conversation will be met with a link to his PayPal, nothing more, as he’s looking for a daddy, but nobody over 25-years-old. FYI: If someone is five/six years older than you, it does not make them your ‘daddy’, it makes them a second cousin at best.
On the rare occasion he does reply, he’ll complain about not having a boyfriend or that he can’t afford concert tickets (likely to Ariana.) Aww. Don’t worry, lil’ twink. I’m sure once you develop emotionally, mentally, and physically you’ll have no problem keeping a man.
The ‘Straight Actin’ Guy
A heinous breed of gay. The self-proclaimed ‘masc’ guys. They don’t want anything remotely femme messaging them (an instinctive physiological response to deep-rooted internalised homophobia I bet.) They’re into straight acting guys only. They’re manly, don’t you get it? So macho. Keep your fairy juice away from their testosterone flooded bodies.
They’re the type of guy that when sending a dick pic, will have a water bottle next to it for perspective. If you send a nude, you’ll get nothing but the word ‘nice’ back (he’s too busy grunting whilst watching football or whatever.) If you decide to engage, expect robotic intolerance and haughty judgements on anything feminine about you – cause he’s a real man. ROAR!
That’s the typical type of guys we’ve all met on Grindr. So, as you can see, all human life is there, apart from anyone you’d want to see naked, or spend the rest of your days with. Or more than an hour of your evening with, come to think about it. Earth still harbours more than its fair share of disappointments, 80% of which can be found on Grindr.
The more you’re on Grindr, the more the metallic taste of disappointment fills your mouth. When it was me, I’d scroll through the conversations and pray that someone would come along to temporarily justify Grindr’s existence; but as I waded through a sea of ominous faceless profiles, I started to feel uneasy at what was being said and sent to me.
While some guys bathed me with endearing compliments, others offered to bathe me in cum. Some simply replied ‘hot’ and others just wanted to know if I’d ever been, or would like to get, fisted. I mean, they were all polite about it, but the answer is still resounding no. By the end of the night I was fully expecting someone offering to murder-then-eat me for sexual gratification.
There might be plenty of people on Grindr, but there wasn’t much to choose from. It’s about as much fun as swallowing a matchbox full of coffee granules, then somehow regurgitating it into my mouth. Clearly Grindr isn’t encoded with love, but I suspect most people don’t use it for that.
If you’re looking for good-boy chivalry and harmless comments, then I don’t recommend it. It’s all ‘Hey baby!’ and ‘U want this Dick???’ until you refuse to send a nude and suddenly when you don’t respond you get nailed with, ‘You’re a fucking bitch!’ Typically, most guys don’t handle rejection well, so it escalates fast.
My advice? Delete that app as it’ll make absolutely no difference to the trajectory of your love life.