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  • Writer's pictureLannie Neely III

I Only Downloaded Tinder to Do Research for This Thing I’m Writing, Honey

Tinder is a popular, easy-to-install online dating app. It works on Android or iOS devices, taking up only a couple hundred megabytes. I had it fully downloaded and running on my Samsung Galaxy S10 in less than two minutes. The little icon is neat: a simple pinkish-orange plate with a white flame. Of course, to know more about this harmless piece of software, one must sign up and create a profile. So, solely for the sake of this review, that’s why I did that.

Tinder has over 67 million annual downloads. Users range from singles to swingers, from young to old, from recently divorced women to men who are just tired of working thanklessly at their father-in-law’s restaurant every day, only to come home to a wife who’s too tired to show him a little respect in the bedroom.

Many download the app out of professional curiosity as well, like I did for this thing I’m writing.

Setting up your profile couldn’t be easier. Simply enter your phone number, verify your email, and then start customizing! My username, age, and workplace info all carried over from Gmail—which proves I wasn’t trying to hide anything. All of my profile images are real, too. I wanted to put myself on the line, like those reporters in war-torn Africa. That’s also why I took my shirt off in so many (but not all!) of the pictures. I didn’t post my face, though. I needed some anonymity, since, like I keep telling you, this was only research.

And anyway, how else am I supposed to write an article about the software compatibility of popular dating apps without installing a few myself? Do you think reporters who covered the Epstein case had squeaky-clean browser histories? When a murder is being solved, isn’t it fair to assume—without judgment—that there will be pictures of dead people in the lead detective’s desk?

This is what happens when you marry an aspiring writer. You find things.

My only complaint is Tinder’s conversation logs, which are a bit finicky. Why does it automatically send “hey sweet thang” to every match? Why does it look like I swiped right at nearly every opportunity, including all the ones who allegedly “look just like my sister”? What’s with the weird feet stuff? Well, I wasn’t going to let these glitches turn me away. I won’t half-ass this software review!

My journalistic resolve also explains the bank statements for dinners at The Savoy across town. I interviewed several Tinder users over meaningless dinners to gauge how they felt about the app’s many features (did you know it has a “Work Mode” camouflage in the browser?). Then, rather than wasting gas driving home, I rented an economy room so I could concentrate on organizing this review. How am I supposed to write about the profile-uplifting Boost and Super Boost functions with our daughters running and screaming through the house at all hours of the damned night? Answer me that!

Deleting your account is as simple as going to “Settings” and scrolling down until you see the “Delete account” option. The Tinder app uninstalls in mere moments. See? It’s gone. Go ahead... check.

Overall, I give Tinder 4 out of 5 stars. It has a simple interface, addictive tactility, and a plethora of premium features in its subscription tiers—I recommend Tinder Platinum™ for its Message Before Matching, Prioritized Likes, and 5 Super Likes per week!

Tune in next time when I tackle a mysterious bug that could explain how that picture of a Portuguese girl with a horse got into my Photo Gallery.


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