Offline or Online, is dating even worth it?

Ella Beesley ’27

 “Hingie Being Burned after a Great Date.” Photo by Hinge Co.

The second I arrived at the Slo party, putting on a good outfit, doing my makeup and pregaming with friends all felt like a waste of time. The routine is the same at every Sarah Lawrence party: people-watching, dancing to terrible music, and running awkwardly into a classmate. After coming home, feeling romantically unsatisfied. I turned to dating apps, wondering if they could fill the romantic void.

Hinge and Tinder are the two leading dating apps. Each has a different connotation, which is apparent from their slogans. Tinder “starts with a swipe,” while Hinge is “Designed to be deleted.” People commonly ask two questions: first, which is better: Tinder or Hinge? Second, are dating apps even worth it—or is it just better to meet people in person? Fortunately, I tried all three options this summer, and the answer might surprise you.   

Hinge Date:

Many would bet the Hinge date would be the best of the three. So I gave it a shot. I decided to meet up with Harry, an economics major at UCONN, at the mall after hours. Unsure what to do, we went for a drive in his car. 

I noticed his car had a stick shift and immediately asked how to drive it. How hard could it be? After almost crashing into a lamp post, we decided to give up and go to the beach to look under the stars. 

Romantic, right? Wrong. The date worsened when we began talking politics: a liberal arts girl vs. a finance bro. After finding out he was not registered to vote, we quickly ended the date and never spoke again.

Tinder Date: 

After the Hinge date, I swore off dating apps until I was abroad, and I could not help but wonder if European men are better than American ones. 

After swiping left and right in Amsterdam, I finally matched with Tinder Tom. He pulled up on his motorcycle and put his stuff away in the hotel room I shared with my best friend. We headed out on our adventure to the clubs and were having fun until he got a call from Greta.

“Do you mind if we visit my friends at the club?” He asked.

“Sure. Who are they?” I replied.

“Some friends I made recently.”

“How do you know them?”

“One of the girls I have made out with, and the other is her best friend. Could you possibly act like we are school friends?” 

“Umm…Sure.” In retrospect, I am unsure why I agreed to continue the date and decided to play along. I could not give you a legitimate reason other than doing it for the plot. 

After trying to find Tom’s friends, we eventually found them outside a club smoking cigarettes. I was stunned. These women were beautiful. I struggled to speak. 

“Do you want a cigarette?” Greta asked with a German accent.

“Yeah,” Tom said. She looked at me. 

“I am good. Should we go inside?” I replied.

“Sure,” Emma, Greta’s best friend, said.

“Tom and I will finish our cigarette, but you can go in,” Greta said. 

Emma, Greta’s best friend, followed me in. When Greta realized we were having more fun inside than she was having outside, she decided to join us. As we all began to dance, I noticed my attention was more on Greta than Tom. We started to dance close, our eyes were locked, and the tension built. 

Greta and I kissed.

I turned to find Tom saying, “Let’s go.”

Fuck. His stuff was back in my hotel room. Before I could even say my goodbyes, he was out the door.  

“Are we taking the train back?” I said. 

“No, the trains are not open this late. Do you have Uber?”

“Yes?” I said, questioning if he was going to make me pay his Uber back.

“Can you call us one?”

I was too drunk to argue. I said, “Sure. Where do you want it to pick us up?” He showed me the location on my phone. We walked there. However, it was too late when we arrived—the Uber had canceled. 

It was 2  a.m., and the subways were closed. I was cold. I was stranded in a foreign country with a boy who wanted nothing to do with me. I was on the verge of a breakdown, but fortunately, Tom found a cab. We got in, and I began to laugh. 

After that date, I swore off all dating apps and decided to meet someone the old-fashioned way. 

In-person: 

At the end of the summer, my friend Valerie and I watched Love Island USA—a classic—until her mom came in and told us about attractive men cutting trees in the front yard. She told us to give the check and check out the scene. As we walked down, I could not help but agree. Valerie’s mom dared me to ask one of the boys out. 

I went down and asked, “Are one of you guys single?” 

“Yes, " a six-foot-one version of Stephen Nedoroscik, a famous USA male gymnast, said. After getting his number, we decided to meet up a couple of days later. 

I picked Sam up, and the regular first-date questions began. Slowly, the red flags unraveled. I found myself at a dumpling place with a man who argued that migraines are worse than giving birth and that real men do not read. Fortunately, he paid for the meal because he was a “real man.” I went to the bathroom and texted the group chat to call me for an emergency. Penny called me ten minutes later at the table, saying she needed a ride to work. I dropped Sam off with an awkward goodbye. 

None of these dates went well; many could conclude from this article that there is no hope. However, dating is not glamorous; it is embarrassing and generally does not turn out well. In some instances, the most one can wish for is to have fun and laugh about it when the show is over. Whether doing a right swipe or simply requesting a number, dating isn’t a sport anymore—it’s about having fun and exaggerating—stupidly. Well, here’s to the next catastrophe.