28 July 2011

Hello: my name is Hopeless Romantic

January 2nd of 2011, it was a day that I will never forget. Sprawled out on my bedroom floor, cell phone in hand and my iPod blasting my idol, Lady Gaga, I hesitantly pressed “install.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as if I had just done something really bad. I was now the owner of a little app called Grindr. Yes, me. A 17-year-old junior in high school was now a part of one of the biggest gay social networks to hit the iPhone.

I was fresh meat on the market. I had taken my profile picture the same day I installed the app to my phone. I thought I was so sexy. I had on a tight black v-neck, standing in my bathroom mirror. I wanted to maintain some level of class, even if I was in the midst of shirtless men with their underwear tighter than the subway on a Monday morning, so I kept my picture from the waist up. I was genuine as I typed my brief “about me” section. I was honestly looking for friends and possibly a relationship. I kept my personal information secure and talked about how much I enjoyed long walks in the nature, exhibitions, music and meeting new people. It all worked. Within the next few hours, I had talked to over 40 different guys. Most were blow offs, but some were keepers. And by keepers, I mean guys who didn’t message me asking “top or bottom?”

I spent several weeks on Grindr, meeting new people, going as far as texting some and on occasion, meeting one or two. I have to admit, even for a 17 year old boy, at the height of my sexual desire, I found myself not fit for the whole gay social networking scene. I found myself routing back to the old school way of meeting people; the park, coffee shops, lounges and clubs. Now, don’t get me wrong, everyone is looking for something different and not everyone has the same preferences and if you are a believer in Grindr, Jack’d and Connexion, then be my guest! But, I guess for me, I see things like the movies from the 90’s. You know, the cheesy, romantic ones where the couple meet in a super market and are married 2 years later. Call me crazy, but I like to think I’m traditional.


The Hopeless Romantic

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