Why I will never (again) date a 25-year-old

Because they look like babies. Literal infants.

Because they wear tank tops in every picture.

Because they list their college majors as their defining characteristic.

Because they post pictures of themselves wearing a cap and gown.

Because they post pictures of themselves with beer bongs.

Because they haven’t lost the baby fat off their faces.

Because they remind me of being in college. Or maybe high school.

Because when they write profiles they include the words holla, hella, or tight, which might be why they remind me of being in college (or maybe high school), and how are there not new terrible slang words yet?

Because just looking at them makes me feel like eating pizza and macaroni and cheese.

Because this one wrote, “3 things I like in a girl: boobs / someone who pushes themselves / butt.” He also classified himself as “not that big of a douche I think.”

Because they call themselves enigmas.

Because they quote Thomas Pynchon and Quentin Tarantino. And Ron Swanson. As if.

Because while I may think I’d be down to find a hot 25-year-old and see what happens, I’m not actually interested in their idea of “what happens” on Tinder.

I really need to up my age range, but it’s just way too fun to look at their baby faces and manly arms and terrible tattoos.

Plus, I never run out of people to look at. I don’t know the exact stats of ages on Tinder, but my friends who have their age ranges set to 30 and above often get the message that “there is no one new in your area.” I have never once seen that. The supply of 20something boys on Tinder is endless.

It’s not just that “there’s always another fish in the sea.” It’s that Tinder isn’t the sea. It’s a fish hatchery.