New Initiative

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CC Image courtesy of Hialean on FlickrI have – or had, until recently – exercised a ‘no initiating’ chat policy on Tinder.  A very different approach from Beatrice

‘I message everyone I match with,’ she tells me over Facebook one evening.  ‘Then I see if they can spell.  When they can spell, even if not attractive, I continyue writing…’

And learning to spell, presumably.

So my complaint that the only two matches I’ve been tempted to contact in as many weeks, I am not allowed to, doesn’t meet with much sympathy.

I explain my logic, that if they’re not interested enough to chat to you and you initiate a conversation, it’s unlikely to go anywhere: the same logic which this blogger, my mother, and my flatmate apply to real-life situations, and which I buy into on the whole.   Beatrice is unimpressed.

‘STOP INTERPRETING NOTHINGS.  They mean NOTHING.’

That being so (which it isn’t), nothing would induce me to contact Simon, NOTHING.  If he can initiate a chat with Beatrice (which he did, but that’s another story), he can do the same with me.  And since he hasn’t… The capital letters make another appearance.

‘SO WHAT?  DO IT.  STOP BEING SO RIGID.’

Am I rigid?  No, just doing what’s required to avoid unnecessary pain, rejection, and disappointment – and yes, the slim, nay, minute possibility of something really good.

And it’s probably that slim minute possibility bollocks which makes me do what I do next: pick up my phone, open the app, and scroll down to the only other match I really hoped would get in touch.

By this stage in the game, I’m pretty jaded about the whole thing.  I’m bored of openers like, ‘Hi, how are you?’ (bored), ‘Exciting plans for the weekend?’ (no, I prefer boring plans), ‘what are you up to this evening?’ (I’m not going to sleep with you just because we live 3 miles apart) – and the rest.  And I have no reason to suppose that this guy will be any different, none at all.  But he is attractive, our mutual friends are what Freddie would call ‘sound fellows’, and his Facebook profile, which I might have had a quick look at, is better than good.  So what’s the worst that can come of dropping him a line, besides pain, rejection, and disappointment?

‘You’d be proud,’ I tell Beatrice later that evening.  ‘I sent the only other viable prospect a message.’

‘WELL DONE.’

Does she know Caps Lock is on?

CC Image courtesy of reticulating on Flickr

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