‘Why online dating is getting me nowhere’

The Bristol Post recently reported that “Bristol is fast becoming a city of singles” with as many as 1 in 3 Bristolians currently living alone, and many turning to dating apps in their search for love. Spotting a rare chance to write something relatable, I decided to describe my own experiences with online dating in this fair city.

First things first, I am hella’ lonely. Lonely enough to try anything. Lonely enough to say “hella’” if I think it’ll help. This is probably not the best starting point for a piece of investigative journalism. I am what a newspaper editor would call “too close to the story.” Imagine if Woodward and Bernstein were secretly convinced that the only thing standing between themselves and eternal happiness was a meaningful relationship with Richard Nixon. That’s the sort of impartial voice we’re dealing with here. Nevertheless, I feel that I am probably still the best man for the job.

I’ve been single for ages. I couldn’t tell you how long exactly. I no longer measure it in weeks and months- It’s easier just to count OKCupid software updates. I’ve tried every dating app under the sun, or under the artificial light of my phone screen at 3am anyway. I met my last girlfriend on Tinder but I no longer have any success with it. I swipe away endlessly but it’s more of a nervous tic than a concerted effort to find companionship. A single thumb hasn’t passed this much judgement since the fall of the Roman Empire. I use very old, very flattering photos from what I lovingly refer to as my golden age. Bronze age would be more accurate. Even at my shiniest I could only manage a dull glow. Old photos are fine as long as I never actually meet any of these people. I also have to double check all of them to make sure there isn’t a Woolworths in the background.

Leading the field in the creepiness stakes is Happn, the new kid on the block. Or to be more accurate, the new kid that knows the exact whereabouts of everyone else on the block thanks to GPS technology. I never thought an app could make me nostalgic for Tinder, but the abruptness of Happn makes me misty eyed for the good old days of swiping and waiting. Tinder feels as quaint as necking at the drive-in by comparison. Happn shows you people that you walk past in real time. I thought that, at the very least, this would encourage me to leave the house more. As it turns out, I live next to a busy bus route and so all it does is encourage me to leave my phone nearer the window. This is what it’s come to: Drive-by dating.

With Tinder getting me nowhere and Happn being overly reliant on the whims of the First Bus network, I did what many people do in desperate times: I turned to God. Or more specifically G_d. I signed up for J-Swipe. So far in my life my Jewish genes have given me nothing but a receding hairline and an inability to do press-ups, and so I thought it was probably time for me to cash in. I was surprised at how quick and simple the registration process was. I just had to put in my email address and tell them whether I kept kosher or not. (I’m writing this in a Burger King so I’ll let you be the judge of that.) This raised two possibilities: either anyone can sign up for J-Swipe, or my phone somehow knows that I’m Jewish. This is worrying but, considering that I mostly use Google to check if Paul Simon is still alive, probably not all that surprising. My favourite thing about Jewish dating is that the Sabbath makes a genuine difference to the amount of people online. If I want to seem dangerous on Tinder I have to upload a picture of myself smoking or riding a motorbike. On J-Swipe I just have to be online on a Saturday.

I realised pretty quickly that J-Swipe was not going to be the answer for me. I’m only Jewish in a technical sense and it would be wrong to fake a religious belief for the sake of meeting someone. (Also, and more importantly, I didn’t get a single match, which is a shame because I’m told it says “Mazel tov!” when you do.)

I don’t mean to sound self-pitying. I’m well aware that my recent lack of success is entirely my fault. I’ve become lazy. I’ve bought into the idea that it’s the internet’s job to find me happiness rather than my own responsibility to make something happen. Three years ago I met a girl that I liked at a comedy gig and I asked her out on a date. This seems like a story from a different era now. These days if I met a girl at a gig my only conceivable course of action would be to find out which bus route she used and then stand at the roadside, Happn in hand, like some horrible GPS fisherman. I’m not usually a conservative person, but perhaps in this case things were better before.

Maybe the answer is for me to start doing things again. Going to real places and saying words out loud with my mouth. It’s a scary concept, so I try to tell myself that it’s just 3D Tinder with better graphics and faster loading times. Even if it doesn’t work, at least I’ll have got out of the house for reasons other than work or Burger King. And, if all else fails, I’ve just found a killer photo of myself standing outside a branch of Comet in 2012. Look out world.

Read more: ‘Why I prefer Bristol to London’