In response to Russ Marshalek’s excellent post on devastatingly sad books last week, we’ve decided to try and lift your spirits a little during this rainy week by suggesting books that are great escapes from the incessant grind of daily existence. ” asked my latest Tinder connection Jennifer, through the app’s chat function.Friends try to tell me that it’s not me, it’s New York. You feel like people are never available, but it’s not for fault. You can’t take it personally.” Tinder seemed like a good way to participate in the New York meat market.Thousands of lonely souls, some who’d been flying solo for years.“With all of those restaurant and café dates I was broke at the end of the month.” At the end of all of this, I love New York but I’m beginning to think it turns men’s and women’s hearts to stone.Now he hates it when people say that it’s easy for a young man to meet a woman and start a relationship. Another time a woman asked where I lived and when she realized it was a 45 minute train ride from her house she dumped me.” I do have one success story: Matt has met a woman and is currently not in singleton hell.It’s a good thing, too: he wouldn’t be able to afford his rent otherwise.
But six months and a few “dates” later, my results are as lackluster as François Hollande’s progress on French unemployment.
Out of 14 virtual conquests that I’ve saved in my app there is Jennifer (of the ratatouille debacle), 12 beautiful women for whom a “hey” or “bonjour” was not possible and one who wrote to me with “You’re a scorpio, I’m a pisces. ” Faced with the complexity of the last question, I figured I’d take my chances with a favorable alignment of the planets.