Valentine’s Day is here, and many of us have managed to dodge the red rose bouquets, heart-shaped chocolate boxes, and reservations for overpriced but somewhat mediocre couple’s prix fixe menus at trendy Manhattan restaurants for the umpteenth year in a row on account of … not being partnered (situationships need not chime in 😉).
We’re in a new era where lots of people are single because they’ve de-centered romance and traditional partnership after centuries of heteronormativity yielding harsh inequities across domestic labor and childcare, economic independence, bodily autonomy, and the global trends of gender-based violence — or simply just out of busyness.
However, many single people still haven’t lost faith in the plot and they’re actively on the market, pursuing intimacy from casual encounters to dates and committed relationships despite the new challenges of the 21st century. Online dating was originally meant to be the sidekick in that quest.
Yes, the hapless void of online dating — once equal parts embarrassing and optimistic, and now very disenchanting if not completely rancid. I know it. You know it. Our friends know it. The people who successfully found life partners know they caught the last lifeboat off the Titanic. Everyone is feeling it. The matchmaking websites became swiping apps, and the swiping apps split off into specialized niches that all yield the same result … Cis men who couldn’t make a good, engaging profile if their lives depended on it.
Out of laziness, the aforementioned disenchantment, and disinterest in shouldering the burden of the supposed male loneliness epidemic, I unenthusiastically window-shop on Hinge when I think to myself “Hey, it’s been a while since I’ve met someone,” on occasion, and within five or six profiles, I remember why I stopped trying in the first place.
For the last 30 or so years, parties who seek men have encountered innumerable photos of fishing trips and solo guitar sessions, sexually charged gym selfies, evidence of narcissism and self-centeredness, and drunk photoshoots that are supposed to be funny…
And while things look bleak, it’s worth noting that art history set the precedent for many of the above. Allow me to demonstrate how history repeats itself.
Let’s start with the obvious — the ubiquitous man with fish. It’s an impressive catch, and he has every right to be proud of himself. Heck, I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for sushi, poke bowls, and fileted branzino. But, like most people divorced from their food production industry, it doesn’t mean I want to see a fish sputtering as it’s been forcibly removed from its environment and held in the air to die.
I could give some points for not showing himself holding the fish by the hooked lip or, even worse, with his fingers jammed in the gills, but I’d just as quickly take them away for the blood on the tabletop.
And here we have the classic group photo — unflattering one of some silly goofy dudes and, in this example, the equivalent of a Hooters waitress with no other choice but to be there and smile. And it’s almost always the first photo in someone’s profile, so you have no idea which person it is.
Another group photo indeed, though this variation of vulnerability often crops up later in a man’s profile … Probably around the fourth or sixth picture upload — you know, after some degree of investment is built before your finger hovers and ultimately lands on the X symbol.
I love funny, compromising drunk photos as much as the next person, but there comes a point where you have to ask why the person with the camera (or paintbrush) isn’t using their hands to fetch a glass of water, call an Uber (horse-drawn carriage), or clear the way to the bathroom (chamberpot) instead.
Ah, we’ve arrived at the proud and arrogant but objectively hot guy who obviously knows he’s hot. If you’re even tempted to try your luck, then get in line and don’t bother crossing your fingers because there are only three ways this can go: You don’t match, or you join the roster for about a month until he goes ghost.
The dreaded sexual and macho gym selfie. Occasionally produced in black and white like above. Often saved from Snapchat or Instagram thirst-trap story archive. Usually indicates only material but no substance. Pants are optional, as evidenced above and sadly from personal eyewitness account.
Yeah, sure, whatever. You pick the drinks, he pays, it might work. He might even thank you for ordering something sugar-forward for the table. Credit where it’s due, it doesn’t seem like he has the biggest ego. Low stakes all around.
There’s always an overconfident man who wants to teach you something. And by teach, I mean mansplain. Are you prepared for a four-hour date in his art studio (cold garage, no sink)?
It’s sweet if you’re into it, but it’s all fun and games until he breaks this out unprompted at your friend’s housewarming party. Then everyone either can’t stop staring or ends up forcibly ignoring him like that statue in the back … It’s a roll of the dice with this type, really.
Aaaaaaand, because Hinge’s free version limits you to eight likes a day, these are your options until 4am local time tomorrow. Choose carefully.
So, which one of these eligible bachelors should I choose as my Valentine?
