Dating apps? No thanks, I’ll trust my shrewd, personal charm

Nathan Apfel

Is love dead? Is romance? What about animal sexual passion? I dare to say yes!

I’m talking, of course, about our cultural demise because of dating apps. Imagine this. You match with someone on your dating app du jour after hours of mindless scanning, casually determining whether other singles are physically worthy of your lust. You slip into a few chats and decide you want to meet for a sneaky hookup.

Now imagine this. You are at Toad’s Place, the home of love, romance and animal sexual passion. You meet someone you find cute. You scream at each other chattering over the deafening roar of “I’ve Got a Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas. Your arms brush, maybe you’re pulling out a cute little pickup line and leaning in for a magical kiss.

Which do you prefer?

You could say that the latter takes a little more effort, a little more courage. You are right. But isn’t love worth our efforts? Can’t we muster that slight burst of courage? Are we really reduced to nothing but fleshy, hormonal masses? Believe in Romance, please!

My disdain for dating apps, I admit, was not born out of an argument based on morality. The facts of my physical profile dictate my position on the matter. Despite what my mother seems to believe, I’m not the prettiest young boy in the neighborhood. I get the job done with my good old fashioned cunning charm. A few pictures of me and a cheap one-liner in my bio aren’t going to appeal to the ladies.

There are things a dating profile just can’t capture. You won’t hear my contagious laughter. You won’t notice my size. You won’t see my crazy dance moves. You won’t notice my size. You won’t get the full effect of my smile. Again, I want to point out that I’m taller than you think in the photos. You won’t learn to like my self-deprecating sense of humor. Et cetera, et cetera.

Personality is my salvation, and it’s the main reason I’m not on dating apps. But that’s not all. There is something that would feel so bad knowing that random people are deciding if my appearance is good enough for them or not.

If you want to reject my affection, do it to my face. I will embrace my shame. But the mass judgment of these anonymous connoisseurs of human form is too much for my poor psyche to handle.

We are better than that. We don’t need to submit to the masses. As we approach our Day of Love – Oh, that glorious tribute to Valentine’s Day! – I make this final appeal to all bored Yale students, parents, faculty, administrators, and alumni reading this column.

Give Love a chance! Put some effort into Romance! Trust your animal sexual passion! Swap your sweatpants sitting on the couch for your best courtesy outfit and get out there. Because every time one more person has the courage to flirt in person, there is hope that one day there will be someone for me.

Forever your companion of love,



Andrew Cramer currently covers Yale’s women’s basketball team. He is a freshman at JE College and remains undecided about his major.

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