Hinge Dating: A How-To

This post will almost certainly never be published. As it turns out, a man recounting his dating life is not only toe-curlingly cringey, but there is also no way he comes out of it without looking like a hopeless romantic or an immature misogynist (but nothing in-between). On the extreme off chance that you may be reading this then, I probably had a 'fuck-it' moment and traded my professional integrity for a few laughs.

'Wait, you don't actually have a spreadsheet, do you?'

The first revelation in Mark's 'Secrets to Seduction for the Modern Man' series: app dating is a numbers game. That's a bleak revelation for any romantics out there, but it's also the cold hard truth. No longer are you competing with a handful of blokes in the local boozer, each one's respective threat closely correlated to the fit of their G-Star Raw tee. You're now being carefully scrutinized against every male [over 6ft tall, with an affinity for dogs] in a 10 mile radius, within ten years of your own age. If that doesn't deter you from creating a profile, scraping the barrel of your increasingly sparse camera roll for a half-flattering, somewhat recent (AKA post mullet era) photo, whilst visibly demonstrating both ruthless ambition and a love of beach walks, definitely will.

Listen, if you don't start treating your inbox like a 'dating funnel', you'll hinge all your hopes (first and only pun, promise) on every attractive prospect. You'll lament when one inexplicably ghosts you, leaving you to wallow yet again in your own crushing inferiority, until you give up entirely. It sounds awful, and is almost impossible in practice, but ideally you should see a match as nothing more than an avatar on the screen, before any physical meetup. Fill your funnel, siphon off the serial-swiper non-talkers, narrow it down to matches with whom conversation doesn't feel like pulling teeth, and move things beyond cyberworld as soon as feasibly possible. Then, and only then, should you let your imagination run wild with thoughts of running hand in hand through springtime meadows, or [I don't know] assembling flat-pack furniture and buying a cockapoo or something. Honestly, I never actually started a spreadsheet, but this would've helped immeasurably and saved a great deal of time in the long run. Better still, go full psychopath, writing an ice-breaker for every type of profile. Let's be honest, they're rarely ever that unique - your either a 'fresh sheets and Gail's almond croissant' kinda gal, or the 'I booked a flight to Cambodia the day before [what am I like?!] and the way to ask me out is by...errr, I don't know, asking me??!' type, so curate accordingly). Grade the success of each response with a colour coding system (green through yellow into red) and evaluate those that should be demoted/used more frequently at the end of each week. To reiterate, I never actually did this but I imagine the success of such an approach relies upon not forgetting to change the prospect's name when you copy and paste it over from the last one (nail the basics), and qualifying each lead prior to getting sentimental (like asking what their spirit animal would be and why, classic). That last bit is crucial in deciphering between those looking for someone to stroke their ego, and those that want a father-figure for their two-year-old. Personally, I find the sweet spot between indifference and insatiability lies somewhere between those two poles. That's 'poles' with a lowercase P, but while we're on the topic - and from my own experience - it's almost always a good idea to eliminate anyone you think could be in it for the passport.

'Throw enough shit at the wall, some of it is bound to stick'

I'll never flog a self help book with a tagline like that, but I'd go out on a limb and say it's the only true mantra to live your life by. No amount of pattern recognition can circumnavigate the fact that you will not be everyone's cup of tea, but if you tell enough girls that you want to paint them green and spank them like a naughty avocado, a few will eventually take you up on the offer...maybe. Trying to appease or seduce everyone is impossible, not to mention degrading.

I heard a stat that around 80% of dating app users are male, and just 10% of those males are getting 60% of the dates. I have no idea where I heard this, nor do I know anything about it's credibility, but it makes sense if you think about it. Disheartening? Possibly. But this is not a new phenomenon, rather it represents the dynamic between male and female since the dawn of humanity, and perhaps beyond that still. Before I go wading into an anthropology lesson (and inevitably come out sounding like Andrew Tate) I'll just say that however hopeless app-dating feels at times, however many rejections you're forced to come to terms with, this situation is not unique to you, nor is it a shocking reflection of a broken society. If anything, it's an amplification of the society we already had, and all there is to do is dust yourself off and go again, until you find someone genuinely impressed by your half marathon PB, or the mushroom risotto that you think makes you 'marriage material', but in reality merely warrants a 'bless him, the boy did good' in her WhatsApp group and nothing more. If the following attempt doesn't work, you could try getting a sleeve tattoo or sending her a post-shower mirror selfie with just a hint of flaccid shaft on show - both are irresistibly alluring to a female human and will alleviate the need to be charming or fane an interest in European city breaks.

'Variety is the spice of life'

I'm of the age now, where you start to become obsessed with age, and begin every sentence with 'I'm of the age where...'. I'm also of the age where it's very unlikely that you'll date someone who hasn't picked up a few mental scars on their journey thus far, or who doesn't carry some sort of baggage. It's a time to get specific about who you choose to spend your time with - filters are your friend in this regard. For example, if you love the smoky S's spoken by Valencian girls between the age of 25 and 30, and would like the novelties of a subtle language barrier to overshadow the absence of any real sense of humour, whilst simultaneously slashing your monthly outgoing for Spanish tuition (wow, where on Earth did I pluck that from...), then this is exactly what you must search for. You'll be surprised how many are knocking about the streets of suburban London.

It's also a time to get real about what you expect from a partner. As my last housemate will attest to, I've encountered some absolute nutcases on this [purely] scientific experiment, but in all fairness, I probably give off that vibe myself. I usually leave it until the 3rd or 4th night with a partner to whip out the full sleep-hygiene paraphernalia, consisting of ear plugs, oral retainer, mouth tape, Vicks vapour rub and 3D, luxury contoured eye mask. The poor girl, whom I'm amazed has not done a runner, is likely expecting me to shove a drip-fed colonic irrigation kit up my arse, just to cover all orifices. We all have our quirks, just as we are all a little bit autistic (that's why it's a spectrum, right?) so I guess what I'm trying to say is: know exactly what it is you want (values), but come to terms with the fact everyone you meet will - at some stage - give you the 'ick' (habits). The idea is not to seek out a carbon copy of yourself. If it is, you may as well go and admire that flaccid shaft in the bathroom mirror again.

'Play your role, fill a hole'

So far I've only spoken from the instigator's perspective, however a large part of securing dates is having an attractive profile. Whilst it pains me to return to the business analogy, selling yourself, as with selling anything, revolves around telling a clear and viable story. In no way have I ever mastered this, my profile is a hodge-podge of summer snaps, race photos (these are seldom flattering but how else am I supposed to portray my monk-like pain tolerance and superiority over all other humans?), peppered with some trite bullshit about valuing experiences and wanting to own some land in Tuscany. The whole thing's a mess, which fails to give the reader a coherent story or vibe to latch on to, in the few seconds of deliberation that occurs before the subject [me] is mercilessly swiped over. I've always struggled with this because I am a snowflake who believes we are all multifaceted individuals with contradictions and complexity in abundance. I reject the idea that you must fit into the pre-conceived slot of jock, bohemian beach bum, or slick-haired estate agent with a financed 3-series and For-Ex side hustle, in order to be noticed. I know, it's ironic how opposed I am to filling a slot when that was my entire motive for downloading the app in the first place.

As such, dumbing down your image is key (not exactly a monumental task for the slick-haired estate agents among you), at least until your fourth date, where you can cosy up in the Waterstones cafe and discuss how Aldous Huxley was bang on the money when he questioned whether conformity is a worthwhile trade off for advancement and stability, and that you yourself wrestle every day with the notion of sacrificing deeper meaning, simply to quench capitalism's relentless thirst for progression, and the superficial, Western ideals that it has instilled in you in the process. Then she will truly know what a complex little thinker you are, and proceed to run off with Will, 32 from Clapham, who turned to tech sales after a knee injury ended his spell with the Harlequins development squad, and can down a pint in exactly 3.26 seconds.

What have we all learnt?

With that meandering, convoluted crash-course complete, you're now ready to go forth and master the art of online dating. If along the way you find yourself despairing - and it's almost certain that you will - I'd like to remind you of my earlier point: app dating is merely an amplified reflection of nature itself. Try as you might, there is no rewriting the rules of the game, in which first impressions really do count, and persistence (of the non-rapey kind) is always rewarded in the long run. Rolling the dice, just one more time, could uncover something incredible, something with substance, far removed from the carefully curated facade of the Hinge profile. You've nothing to lose except the eradication of your genealogy forevermore, so you know, have fun out there.