When I refused to interact with him, he sent more messages until I had to report him to the app and delete my profile.‘What I find particularly depressing is that these men think that’s what women today have been reduced to — that it’s a normal way to speak to a woman in 2017.‘If this is the way forward in dating, the world is going to be left full of single, lonely hearts.’Finally I felt ready to dip my toe back into dating.Since my divorce nine years ago, my life has revolved around my 14-year-old daughter, Sophie, and my business.
When I asked why, Dave’s profile instantly disappeared.
Clearly, I was going to have to keep my wits about me. When I first dated 30 years ago, we’d shyly share a warm Bacardi and coke and talk about Duran Duran.
His profile picture showed a stool painted with the words: ‘The Naughty Spot.’ His ideal Tinder date, he revealed straightaway, was a ‘strict auntie’ to give him a ‘guiding hand’. I was two weeks and hundreds of swipes in, and I’d still not had a single, genuine date with an honest man. As I kept swiping, it became clear that the more mature men of Tinder fall into a few distinct categories.
Then there was Mark, who wanted to meet me with ‘the wife’ — pictured with her face obscured, but not much else. There are the bachelors posing with cars or speed boats, the men wearing suits that varied in quality from Savile Row to Burton, but who all wanted to imply they were CEOs.
Others ‘ghosted’ me — not returning messages after we’d exchanged a few pleasantaries.
After a while it didn’t even feel offensive or rude — it’s just the normal way to treat people on Tinder. Jonathan described himself as a divorced ex-policeman in his 50s who now worked in security.Today, there’s no innocence, no flirting, no finesse.I began the week being ‘wooed’ by a ‘suitor’ who called himself Firm Hand. Will she ever experience that thrill of eyes meeting across a crowded bar?To deter time-wasters, I tried to be as specific about what I was looking for in a man as possible: someone with a good sense of humour who would share my love of Eighties music.As a more mature woman, I also made it plain I didn’t appreciate being called ‘babe’, ‘sweetie’, ‘princess’, ‘my lovely’, ‘cutie’, or ‘hun’ and that I was not in the market for one-night stands. It felt like going shopping with no limit on my card.Mike, a 49-year-old mechanic, cut straight to the chase. I quickly ducked below the window and turned off my phone.