Party Pooper

I'll let you know that I have a hefty queue of conversation screenshots from these aforementioned "social" apps. It's not all I plan on writing about, but it's really just selfish to keep these gems to myself.

HOWEVER. However. This simple exchange I had on Tinder while waiting on the subway platform after a late night at work is too good not to bump to the front of the line and share with the world:

MY JAW DROPPED. And I let out a simultaneous Gay Gasp. I mean...WHAT.

First of all, I was kind enough to respond truthfully to your first abrupt turn in conversation. Willie, my dear, you didn't respond with a salutation, which I looked past. If you couldn't tell by the six pictures available on my Tinder profile, I'm not a gym rat, but I'm not an absolute slovenly troll either. 

But then, there's no segue! Just, BOOM. 

I'll hand it to you, Willie. You've got moxie, kid. But I'm so confounded. Surely, no one has ever responded positively to that. 

Firstly - pooper? My "pooper." I've literally never referred to my asshole or anyone else's with any term other than, well, asshole. It's not a sexy part of the human body. Granted, an essential part, but not something you want to shine a spotlight on. 

Also, you're going to fuck the shit out of it? Literally? Like, you're into scat play? NO THANKS. If not literally, then OUCH. I'm a gentle lover. And you sound like a selfish top. This is a two-way street, buddy.

Alas, Willie has disappeared forever. Our chance at everlasting love or a fleeting love affair are forever lost. Commence the mourning period for the loss of this great wordsmith, the Cyrano de Bergerac of Tinder.

These are my confessions.

I'm beginning this blog with a confession:

I am a user of Grindr. 
And Scruff.
And the occasional Tinder.

And the creation of this blog was largely inspired by some recent interactions on these "social" applications.

To catch those readers up to speed who may be unfamiliar (but, like...how did you get here?), these apps, to the best of my knowledge, were created as a platform for dating and meeting like-minded people. We gays, however, quickly took them into our own hands for - ahem - other purposes. 

I mean, a location-based app that helps you meet other people? Hmmmm...

Anygay, I have made the conscious effort as of late to use these apps for less salacious activities. It's great practice at meeting new people, and hey - if a new friend or more comes out of it, how lovely!

BUT - some dastardly villains are out to sabotage these plans of mine, enticing me with unsolicited dick pics and inquiries of "Looking?" In the wake of this, I have decided to strike back with wit and perfect timing. I shall, as the occasion arises, publicly shame these anonymous trolls by broadcasting screenshots of my interactions with them. That'll teach them!

(Please remember, non-Grindr users - these conversations read just like messages on your iPhone. His messages are aligned left in blue, mine aligned right in yellow. His username appears at the top, not mine.)

This, my friends, is the brief conversation that started all of this:

I hope he's still hiding in shame.