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I decided that the first adequate candidate whom I was at least fairly certain wouldn't murder me would be the winner. After a few ineligible candidates (one who insisted on meeting at my house even though my roommate was home, another who seemed like he might be my grandfather's age), I was messaged by a guy who I felt was decent-looking and sweet-seeming enough. It was pounding because I really, sincerely did not know what the next hour held for me. On the other side was some version of the sweet face I had seen, although not exactly as chiseled and clean as it had appeared in his Grindr photo."Hi," he said in a very soft-spoken, high-pitched, effeminate voice that caught me severely off-guard. Although I have never been a superficial type when it comes to choosing partners, I found myself fixated on his appearance.
In the often-daunting world of the New York gay scene, knowing who you are in these ways is a great comfort.
One of the primary issues I found with these traditional sites was that I frequently found myself conversing with people who didn't want to meet other people in real life and were merely using these sites for a fleeting online flirtation. I've always had a passing interest in Grindr, partially because it's the opposite of that maxim: Grindr is all about getting off the Internet and meeting up.
I've had friends who have used it successfully for what it was intended for (easy sex), and one who actually met a real-life boyfriend using the app, a feat that should be canonized as one of the modern wonders of the world.
"Hi, there," I said, my voice stuttering from anxiety. I chuckled, although I was totally debating turning on my heels and running. I've never met someone off Grindr before," I told him. The more I looked at him, the more removed he seemed from the pictures from the app.
Beyond how much the tone and nature of his voice threw me, he was also much shorter and pudgier.