My Tumble With The Bumble

Matching with someone feels the same as winning a pinball game.

I live in France.

Alone.

I do not speak French.

I do not have a car.

96% of the time none of this bothers me. In fact, I find it a point of pride. I’m living an uncharted life and it’s thrilling. I’ve met people, not very many, but some. The few I’ve met have been true gems. This includes my neighbor.

A month ago, my neighbor told me:

To learn French, the fastest way, will be to date a French boy.

Considering the circumstances previously mentioned, my ability to meet anyone, much less a French boy, is limited. I said:

You have friends, give me a good one.

He said:

You can check Tinder or Adopte un Mec.

I thought:

QUOIA?

Me? App dating? What kind of girl does he think I am?

What kind of girl do I think I am?

The kind of girl that needs to learn French.

For reasons unknown to me, my phone refused download any new applications in November, thus transitioning my app dating introduction to an online dating experience.

I used Bumble. Tinder’s reputation for sex driven relationships wasn’t appealing to me and I’m too American for AUM. It also helped that I’d drunkenly created a Bumble account 9 months prior.

The thought of online shopping for a person makes me cringe. You’re evaluating whether a person is worth your time in a matter of seconds. It’s impersonal and gross. To alleviate my guilt of participating in the practice, I developed a system.

Swipe right 3 times, swipe left once.

The first day, I practiced French messaging like a boss.

Coucou, Taylor.

Salut, çava?

Où viens tu?

Où habites tu?

Tu es tres belle.

Every one said the same things to me, except one person.

The second day, I was over it. I matched with too many people (shocker). I found myself becoming discouraged for the general male population.

Pourquoi je fait la?

Oh. To learn French I need a French boyfriend.

Non, je n’ai pas besoin.

The mere notion of needing a boyfriend is counter to every step I have taken this year.

I resigned from the online-app dating.

I do see some value in it. I practiced a foreign language and was introduced to new literature. I even had the opportunity to flex my dating muscle, only to find that there was no muscle there.

If you don’t use it you lose it I suppose.

Maybe Amazon will develop Partner Prime in the new decade to alleviate my need to exercise yet another part of myself. Then, for the Holidays, I’ll be able to buy a new blender, plant-based protein powder, and a boyfriend with free delivery.

Despite the opportunities my optimism found in it, my opinion of application dating has not changed. Matching with someone feels the same as winning a pinball game. Ce n’est pas le même chose.

Contributing writer to Recovery International, The Ascend, and Innovation. As seen in Are We Europe, & Culture Trip. Sober Party Girl : livingwanderfull.com

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