Disney lovers online dating
I log on after an hour to check on my progress, 2 “Absolutely not”, 2 “No”, 3 “Beautiful” and 14 “Hmmm… I check my ranking 27 times, that’s once every 1 hour 12 minutes after accounting for sleep. The conversation is stunted and as the “Hi, how are yous” start trickling in I realise that no one is injecting much personality into this.
Two anxiety-filled days later and I am in, I hold a strong position between “Beautiful” and “Hmmm… Maybe good-looking people don’t need to be interesting.
Like Tinder, suitors swipe love matches right to accept and left to reject but unlike Tinder each picture is accompanied by one of the dater’s favourite songs. He texted to say that he was there and to look out for a guy in a red checked shirt, the modern replacement for a red carnation. Conversation flowed and we covered the obligatory first date topics, holidays, work, family.
I wonder if he’s received a mother’s chat about stranger danger. My initial reaction is to wonder why he is online dating but the more I mull on the events I decide he’s probably right. After an unexpected break from my week of dating I’ve woken up feeling a little deflated.
In a day and age where Tinder dates and Plenty of Fish are the initial meeting ground for the majority of couples we have become very lax about our personal security. I had lined up a date with a self-assertive dog lover and his charming Boxer puppy that I had matched on Twindog (Like Tinder but you swipe for the pooches instead of their owners).
But alongside the uprising of the “swipe right” apps came a number of lesser publicised niche dating sites designed to aid very specific groups of people in their quest for love.
Could a mutual wheat intolerance be enough to ignite romance?