Being single sometimes is frustrating especially when you want to just f*ck.
There’s a point where you know you need that and just that – no morning after fuckery, no I love you etc etc. – you want to get in literally, cum and go. Some of you might say that’s just harsh and well it’s true – I want to have great sex and then go back to work or home feeling spent.
The emotional bank is full – trust me it is! If it weren’t you would be this person in the next paragraph.
The type that would be an insecure person who’s watching ‘Eat, Pray Love’ for the 50th time and then goes to trawl the last few relationship profiles on Facebook wishing you knew what went wrong.
Yes – I know there is a ton of you who fit that profile – I was that person until I found my self-esteem and as someone recently described me as ‘headstrong.’ I sat back and thought about it, I fucking actually am!
This came out a whatsapp discussion where I mentioned Grindr – the gay hookup app. It’s been an app that I have been on for about a year on a paid account to avoid those fucking adverts & bots.
For you voyeurs out there here’s the conversation bit just so you get into the picture.
Of a year being on Grindr Xtra (that means premium) I’ve hooked up just once on the app with someone who kept my attention let’s call him ‘Mirza’ – totally has the Ranveer Singh look. We’re friends with benefits and whenever we are in the same city, continent we hook up and go on with our lives as normal.
I love Grindr it’s helped me make some really good friends and I got to know others a lot more better. Some might say Grindr promotes an unsafe approach to sex but I have to disagree with that statement.
The app like many others, Scruff, Jack’d, Tinder etc is a space where you draw the lines to what you want & how to conduct yourself on it. For those that don’t know how to be truly themselves, well there’s a block function I love to use. Yes most of you are in there.
My iPhone has a few social apps, Tinder, Facebook, Instagram, Whatsapp, Twitter and Grindr. The best time I have to check out the social scene is actually when I am on the treadmill at gym. I crank up the walk speed to 3.5 and whilst on that I get to say hello, like stuff, heart it and yes check out the Lotharios on Grindr.
My phone is always on sound. Grindr has this odd burp sound. It is more effective than an alarm. A ping on Grindr! I check my notifications, giving WhatsApp, Facebook and Instagram a miss – who needs friends right now?
There are about ten Grindr messages.
First person on the grid is me – Fuck I am sexy, I scroll: Ugly *block*, Ugly *block*, Average Umm ok, Hideous *block*, Cute Umm ok, High AF *block*.
Average and cute warrant a message back so I indulge them with a ‘Hi, how’s your day going?’ and then I wait. Grindr boys generally online will message back rather quick compared to Tinder where you would wait fucking days for a ‘hi’.
Grindr boy ‘average’ has finally responded – with an unsavory picture of his junk – and that’s when I almost trip on the treadmill. I ignore his message. He sends a few more “You there?” before giving up and blocking me. Some nerve, who does he think he is, Ranveer Singh? I waste a few minutes on the web checking out Ranveer Singh. Sigh
Oh Tinder boy has responded, rather decent looking, yes a guy in suit oozes that allure! I check out his Instagram for good measure – loves dogs, enjoys social dinners, jazz lounges next picture looks familiar – hmmm, I seen this guy on Grindr! Anyway, I message him my whatsapp number and in a few hours we are meeting at the Radisson for dinner. I have a few nights to use up so why waste a perfectly great hotel room to myself? I prefer meeting there rather than take someone into my personal space unless its Ranveer Singh (sigh) .
Back home I already have something in mind to wear so no rush. I crash on the couch while I look at his Facebook: well-spoken, mutual friends are of the sapiosexual specie, classical music, Coldplay everything I need in a man (especially those interesting fabric contours in his holiday selfies).
I’m ready, the Uber just pinged me. As I head out, I swipe into my Grindr & Tinder again. New messages and matches are in. Few more potential dates or FWBs, I avoid setting up another date for tonight after all there’s this handsome man at my disposal. I kill the apps for the night and am heading on for the ‘meet.’
We meet, have dinner, a few more drinks and then….
We’re in bed.
He’s dressing up to leave; I get torn between feelings of loss and contentment. I slap myself mentally all I needed was the release and so did he. I hear the familiar chirp on his phone; he checks it and fires off a message. He has to leave. You slut! I think as he heads out the door.
Why have we become so wound up in apps – sharing our bodies with it, physically and figuratively? Staring at my silent phone, I realize that for people like us (ones always on the go) the potential we see in digital lovers is way more pleasurable than actually interacting with them.
I collect matches on Tinder, you know? I travel to various cities and swipe away. I have over 150 decent matches. Three men want to pound my brains out. I respond to none of them: They are merely decorative badges of accomplishment.
Instead of seeking validation from a few people, we desire it from everyone. Please, Internet stranger, like my new pictures on Instagram, I made it just so you could smile/laugh/be horny! But even without Tinder, haven’t we always been this way? Whores for universal adoration?
But to be honest, we do it so it doesn’t get personal. I don’t want to see you as a person, and I don’t have time to ask about your education or job or mother. Just give me the dick picture and let me cum! Instant gratification FTW.
We don’t want or need steady partners. The Internet satisfies all our brute urges. All we need is a competent AI sex doll. Romance is dead, Hallmark is out of business. The machines are rising amongst other things
My phone chirps. Mirza just flew in to Johannesburg. We arrange to meet in an hour at Babylon The Bar. I get showered, ready again and head off.