My post-divorce Tinder career
John Wilkes, the eighteenth-century radical, rake and uglybug, claimed that it only took him half an hour with any woman to talk away his face. Tinder gives you 500 characters. It’s not enough. I am not saying that I am, like the old libertine, a shocking dog to look at, who ought not to be exposed to pregnant women’s view – Tinder hasn’t, yet, destroyed my self-esteem quite that much – but I think I probably need slightly longer to talk away my photos than the length of this paragraph.
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I had hoped that I had dodged dating on the apps – I was married the year before Tinder was launched in Britain – but that optimism lasted no longer than the marriage. I had been an early adopter of internet dating, but back then photographs were considered unnecessary (and would clog up your dial-up connection to no purpose). You just found someone with the same interests and wrote a message about those interests. ‘I see you like… stuff’.
I always felt they made a mistake by only listing things you liked; generally, you bond with people over things you both hate. When Mr Wilkes dined with the Tory Dr........
