Then came the guy. Let’s call him Brad. Brad’s profile had six photos. Five were of his truck. One was of his dog. His bio: “Conservative. God first. Just seeing what’s out there.”
And just like that, the romance died. Not because there’s anything wrong with Call of Duty. But because I realized—he wasn’t looking for a date. He was looking for a warm body on his couch who wouldn’t complain about the Mountain Dew cans.
Last Tuesday, at 11:47 PM, fueled by two glasses of cheap rosé and a deep, spiritual boredom, I did something stupid. I re-downloaded a “mainstream” dating app. You know, the one with the orange and white logo. The one where 90% of the profiles are either: a) A guy holding a fish. b) A guy whose bio just says “Fluent in sarcasm.” c) A guy who is “just looking for a gym bro.”
For context, I’ve been out for about four years. I have a Grindr horror story that involves a unicycle (don’t ask), and a Scruff success story that ended after three dates because he didn’t like The Golden Girls (dealbreaker). So why did I go back to the dark side? amatuer gay blog
What’s your worst “straight app” experience? Drop it in the comments. Let’s suffer together. This post is part of the “Amateur Hour” series. I have no credentials, no editor, and no idea what I’m doing. But I’m doing it anyway.
I matched with a guy named “Mark.” Mark was cute. Glasses, stubble, a photo of him reading a book in a coffee shop. We chatted for an hour about The Last of Us TV show. I was swooning. I thought, This is it. This is the meet-cute.
Here’s the thing nobody tells you about being an amateur gay blogger: you have to fail publicly so other people feel less alone. So here is my failure. Then came the guy
I set my profile. Photo of me at the beach (angles matter). Bio: “Likes long walks to the fridge and queer horror movies. He/him.”
Within three minutes, I got a match. A woman. "Hey! Love your smile! Do you go to Hillsong Church?" I politely replied that I am, in fact, a gay man, and she unmatched faster than I can say "internalized homophobia."
[Your Name]
Okay, don’t yell at me.
Him: “Cool. Do you want to come over tonight and watch me play Call of Duty? My roommate is gone.”