On dit qu’elle déprime, mais Grindr ne fait pas perdre tout espoir. Parmi ses utilisateurs, 56,9% d’entre estiment pouvoir y trouver l’amour, selon une étude menée par un comparateur d’assurances auprès de 2000 adultes utilisants des applications de rencontre. Les plus jeunes seraient d’ailleurs les plus optimistes à ce sujet. En effet, à la question « Pensez-vous qu’il soit possible de tomber amoureux via une appli ? », 34% des 25-34 ans interrogés répondent « Oui, absolument ».
I was reading on TioWalter about the dangers of getting ghosted when trying to find a connection online. Totally true. It's not as easy as it seems. Especially if you want more than a wham-bam-thank-you-man. Getting ghosted, as Walter mentioned, is when somebody with whom you've had nice interactions suddenly disappears. No Ouija board needed to know that they've disappeared on thin air. And it happens more often than not. It's the age of online dating (and hooking up) so we should not be surprised.
Then I found him. We started chatting and everything seemed to go well. We chatted about movies, and about politics and about all kinds of things. No, I did not get a dick pic. I told Aaron about my chats with this guy and he was skeptic. I shrugged it off and kept on talking with my newfound 'friend'. There were some flirty texts. We shared cute links. Then we shared more provocative links. It was an easy, natural connection. Of course when you're online you're more daring. You tend to suggest more than what you'd do face to face. Aaron was still skeptic.
Then one day we decided to meet. You see, one thing is a connection with a man online. Online you can be Norman Mailer or a Caped Crusader and nobody'd know the difference, as Savage Garden sang. People take on different personas when they're behind a keyboard (or behind that blue and yellow blurbs on Grindr). Besides, one never knows how it's gonna be when you meet face to face. It's in the look in his eyes, in the touch of his hand, on the way he walks. Right?
Se we met. I chose a public place. You know, I'm no Captain America. I don't get to 5'9" and I'm barely a welterweight, so I have to be careful when meeting men off the internet. Or anywhere. And we arranged for a sit down. Aaron warned me not to have high expectations. I felt some trepidation, of course. He sounded great on Grindr. Witty, politically aware, sexy. It read too perfect and I wanted to see how I'd react to him in the flesh.
I got to the place and I think he was there already. 'Good!' I thought. A punctual man. Good sign. His gaze was direct and steady. Clear, amused eyes. Nice, strong hands. Easy smile. Right now I don't remember what we talked about. I think it was all light talk and easy banter. I have no idea what we ate. He moved around easily and had a quiet physicality that made me feel at ease. I think I touched his hand once or twice. I'm very touchy-feely. And I wanted to know how I'd react to his touch. It felt good.
Time went by fast. Suddenly, we had finished out meal but we kept chatting. I think it was dark out when we left. In the parking lot, I was convinced he was going to kiss me. I was more than ready for it to happen. You see, we were lucky. The same feeling of connectedness, the same easy conversation was present in the flesh. And now I wanted those big hands on me.
But we didn't kiss. Not that first day. Later he told me that it took him some willpower not to kiss me right there, in that parking lot in the middle of suburbia. I wouldn't have minded. Not at all. We didn't have sex right away, either. That came later. It was in a way, an old-fashioned start. We did use technology to get in touch, but the rest of that start of the relationship was like it was before Grindr changed the game.
And the rest, well, that's a post for some other day, Constant Reader.