So far, none of my exes live in Texas. It would appear, however, that a good number of them live on Bumble. When you go to a school like ULV, though, dating gets weird. Hardly anyone actually gets (or stays) together because everyone knows everything about everyone else. It’s like we’re all Taylor Swift or something. My point is that I got bored and downloaded Bumble and I swear, everyone on there that I already know is the ex-almost-boyfriend of someone I know. You can take the girls out of La Verne, but you clearly cannot take La Verne out of the girls. This weird phenomenon of seeing someone you know and/or have dated feels so awkward because now they know you have a Bumble. But so do they! It’s funny, right? You should probably swipe right and acknowledge it, right? And sometimes you match and laugh about it, exchange a few messages, move on. Sometimes they don’t and you get the satisfaction of being like well, this guy is clearly still not over himself, move on. It makes you wonder, though. How has adapting to the mess that is the dating pool at La Verne affected our ability to “find a mate,” as my dad loves to put it? Every now and then I’ll meet a cute, nice guy, about whom I know nothing about, and I don’t even know what to do with myself. [Enter Bumble]The irony is that I have zero intentions on actually meeting any of these boys. I’m more than a little skeptical of these things. We all had our Tinder phase, and one of my best friends actually met the love of her life on there (gag), but it definitely isn’t something for me. Meeting boys in the real actual world isn’t really something for me either, but that’s beside the point. Tinder was aggressive. Every guy you swipe right is a match and feeds you some disgusting line and you delete the app a week later with a slight ego boost. You probably download it again in a few months when you have the stomach flu and need to feel pretty. Even if you go on a couple dates with a couple nice boys, it’s still Tinder, you know?
Bumble is a little different. At least half the guys have a profile of male model shots, one with a puppy or baby, one with their mom, their job description says “Entrepreneur” or “CFO” (at 23. I’m so sure.) and their bio says something like “6’2 if it matters, Newps CA. Into fitness and IPAs. That’s my nephew, not my kid. Let’s go an adventure. (Insert handful of emojis)” and you’re skeptical but also like, whatever. So you swipe right and they don’t always immediately match, which is weirdly satisfying. When they do match, you have to send the first message but you don’t like lines so you say some generic greeting, unless they have a dog you can gush over first. Send a few messages, move on, delete the app. 
Why is this even mildly enjoyable? My theory is that it’s probably because it is so unlike meeting people in the real world. You don’t get a synopsis of how they decide to present themselves or a handful of carefully cultivated profile shots for you to judge (Is this picture where I can barely see anything about you other than that you’re surrounded by girls way hotter than me supposed to make me like you? If one of the guys in your prof pics has abs, shouldn’t it probably be you? Do you even own any shirts, or do they just spontaneously fall off when cameras are around?) and you definitely don’t get the safety net of knowing if someone is attracted to you before you talk to them. It takes essentially all of the aspects about dating that actually matter out of the process. The putting yourself out there. The awkwardness. The having to ask questions. It’s fascinating, honestly.

And this is all fine. It’s funny and we’re young(ish) and dumb so whatever forever. But it got me thinking about what an accurate dating profile would look like. 

  
Tabitha, 22 Writing Tutor/Dancing Waitress-University of La Verne 2016 Location-Norco Info– I know more than anyone would care to know about the English language, am definitely allergic to the dessert you want to split, live with my parents even though I have a degree, work every single day, work out sometimes kind of, emotional baggage, adorable lisp that I’m actually super self-conscious about, will definitely like my sorority sisters more than I like you, probably the funniest person you will ever meet, consistently late. In college, I was the one you could count on finding in the library. In high school, I was both a prom princess and apparently so unlikely to find a date to prom that my Dad felt the need to suggest I take my brother. Your every move will be documented in a group text and months after you break up with me/decide to never speak to me again, I’ll probably write a short story about you, which will probably be published because I’m awesome.  Meanwhile, you will definitely still be finding curly red hairs in your car, bathroom, and every piece of clothing you own. So you could say I’m the kind of girl that sticks around. I think I’m a pretty good time.