Tinderella with two children? How does online dating work as a single mum?
Anyone who is thrown into the partnership market as a mother over the age of 40 sometimes feels like second-hand goods. Nevertheless, the author Andrea Müller ventured on Tinder for us and threw old loot samples overboard
Let's forget the thing with the sausage counter. For years I have unvarnished with wool cap and worn out jogging pants with potential Mr. Rights on liver pate with or rather without truffles, salami with or rather without Pfeffermargintalked.
Before I could steer the conversation from the truffles to the singledasein (which is basically fast), the guys were already on the wine rack. Or at the cash register. Or the wrong ones. Anyway, gone. Sometimes I also wore a dress and was dressed up so you would really think I would not just go to the supermarket for grocery shopping.
But seriously: After four years as an advanced single with children and a failed marriage you should not wait for the coup de foudre at the meat counter. The modern supermarket of love is the Internet.
The mission of the editorial fits perfectly in my life: "Hochtindern? shall I: "Ran to the smart guys? is the job. So I just forget the men with tummy, tie and gray temples (which I think is appropriate). I should now click like a guy. Not always a hand's breadth under the wake, so girlishly? Huch, who is too sexy for me?
So: ten years younger, six-pack, pierced or tattooed, Italian or French, paramedic, yacht club member or Harley driver. And also the Leonardo DiCaprios among the Tinderellos. Why not! The Rüdigers from Pinneberg with Schnauzer and Blaumann also do not click under Scarlett Johansson.
In 20 years, no couple will get to know each other in a bar
Until recently, I never would have had a man on Tinder. Although my circle of friends shows numerous happy internet pairings. For years, I stuck to Woody Allen's rule of never joining a club that would accept people like me as members.
Online loves used to be on a par with job ads for me. I'll never forget how my dad made fun of a Stuttgart dentist 25 years ago who switched to marriage. He must probably squint and have a hump, my father said and let me call there, almost as a phone-shake. That was not fair and somehow poisoned my karma.
In 20 years, no couple will get to know each other in a bar. Because the risk of catching a basket or a fool is just too big. ? Tinder? compresses experiences that would have taken me ten times offline offline. And opens a new market for me.
I set the desired age (35 to 55), distance and gender, and zack, opens a catalog full of male faces on my iPhone. It's like Barbie World. And goes on like in the bar: go in, scan, judge. Click, click, click. The first look decides.
"Noon match, sex in the evening"
Unlike other partner portals, there are no matching algorithms here. And I also do not want to know if one snores at night or watch series, before I have at least once looked him in the eye. I believe in chemistry. The rest can be found: love for life, escapade, holiday companionship. But also the Tinder classic: noon match, sex in the evening. After three or four sentences back and forth you know if you want to meet.
Or rather not.
I have a match with Olivier, 45, from Marseille. He is sexy on the display photo, Frenchman, engineer at Airbus. I love French. Until I continue reading: He is in town for three nights. So that's the relationship he offers: a three-night stand in Park Hyatt!
Why does not he just order a hooker instead of chasing immoral offers through the airwaves, while his wife on the other side of Europe believes Papi is good on a business trip? On the other hand: What speaks against a hot night with a stranger in the hotel? After all, I'm single and can do whatever I want. On the other hand, the option of someone packing me out of blue sacks in forensic medicine tomorrow. Or is it just the fear of fulfilling an erotic dream for which I'm too Catholic?
I still wanted to know if Olivier found a girl for three nights. He does not have. At least he was trying to make the rest of the night with him tasty. The benefit-cost analysis was against a yes.
The shortest kiss in the world
I met three or four times with Markus, 52, an architect with a bald head. We chatted nicely, he always brought me home safely. That he as Greek could not explain the Greek crisis and once wanted the 12 Euro back for the movie ticket, I somehow repressed. I just wanted to find him great. Only his sudden tongue attacks were a mystery to me.Always in passing he pressed me like a frog, who snatches a fly with his tongue, the part in the neck. One tenth of a second. As in the Wettknutschen for the shortest kiss in the world. To then stop again very fast. That was almost a bit of a spit. I thought, what if he does that with all things?
The basic problem with the election of new men, whether for the short or long term planning: one becomes inversely proportional to its own dwindling attractiveness more demanding, instead of compromise. I'll say it this way: I'll fuck you! Of course, above all, I know what I do not want. And unfortunately that is the most: I do not want a foreigner, no boring, no Korinthenkacker, no bankruptcy vulture, no child-hater, no know-it-all, no lawyer and please no policeman. No one who climbs and no one who wants to be mothered (two sons are enough for me). I do not want to iron shirts any more and wash any stinky socks and never again justify why my tax return is not ready. To name only a fraction of the list. Actually, very simple. And there's got to be something out there somewhere, a grain in the sand, a spark that kindles the fire.
? Bambini? Due? Dio! Noooo !?
Luciano, 34, the waiters painter (or painting waiter), I point out again, although my age is there that I would be over ten years older and probably a kind of Mrs. Robinson for him. He does not know who Mrs. Robinson is, but says love knows no age, and wants to meet me at the Italian.
Before I enter the restaurant, I look around. Is his buddy lurking behind the hedge, does he flash my cell phone to warn Luciano via WhatsApp? So he can disappear quickly? When he recognizes me, I involuntarily remember how my parents used to follow me to the disco (they were the same age as me now) and a buddy said to them, "Graves are opening."
In fact, Luciano is charming and polite. In sexy Italian he jokes about the menu. Apart from the silver bear on his Brusthaartoupet (the joke did not pull by the way) I found him attractive. His face is classic Italian, curved nose, soft lips, dark eyes, wavy hair. He is a full-time artist. And in order to get the on-board funds, until later he would be rich and famous, he would wait a bit. He probably paints? but just a bit to distract himself from being a pizza maker and not Michelangelo. ? Bambini? Due? Dio! Noooo!? He yells suddenly, as if I've said that I have six children. Mum Mia!
Outside, Luciano still tries to kiss me, I do not kiss him back. Go home, I think, and I'm a bit sad. About myself. And wondering: How far away from myself is away from the prey scheme?
He has exact copulation times? in the head
In the next few days, I catch myself a few times as the secret avenger of the women. Click Profiles to get rid of the poison arrow at the right moment. As with Joachim from Dusseldorf. He was in good hands, and that would not change. Nevertheless, I want to know how he imagines our affair Düsseldorf-Hamburg. He has exact copulation times? in the head, including return flights to his hometown, which he still has to catch on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so that his wife does not come to him. I then rejected, perhaps overly pointedly. He deleted me after saying goodbye? Bitch? wrote with three exclamation marks.
A friend, also a mother over 40 and a? Nurse? By the way, on the professional popularity scale number one among the men, shoots the bird off with bizarre offers of online dating. Recently, she received a text message from a civil engineer: He was in the hospital after a testicular surgery. Now he wanted to check using telephone sex, if his genitals still works. Could she just call him? After all, she is a nurse! Another acquisition asked her on the first phone call if she had breastfed her child. So he told her unobtrusively to ask for her cup size, because women with small breasts did not come for him in the bag. Another one sent her a charge including a "duvet cover" after completing the affair with him. If I hear something like that, I have to say: I've probably been lucky.
Finally, really: I sat with my Tinder Date, 44, from the neighborhood at dinner. The app had told me that he lives only six kilometers away. He was eloquent, perfectly formed and paid for the (expensive) food. We knew each other by sight and thought for a while, where from. Then it occurred to us. Checkout line, Edeka. Of course I did not smile at him then under the glaring "anti-beauty light". Of course he saw that my shopping basket was full of chicken nuggets and kids pinguis. Had every second my husband with the kids around the corner can come. Never, he says, never, never, never would he have spoken to me.
This info saved my evening.
