Fuck Tinder, I tried old school dating techniques and I’m never going back

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Fuck Tinder, I tried old school dating techniques and I’m never going back

Yes, I even put an ad in my local paper

Dating apps are wonderful things to entertain you on the toilet but I can’t be alone in thinking they low-key mean that romance is, y’know, dead?

Surely there had to have been a time before absentmindedly rejecting dudes based on things that would never be deal-breakers in real life (wearing hats, holding up a fish)?

Inspired by the love stories of yesteryear and what’s probably impending carpal tunnel, I took matters into my own hands and tried out a ton of old-school dating techniques to see if the future really is in swiping right.

Using the ‘lonely hearts’ section in my local paper

I was filled with hope for this one as with my sassy advert I really thought I’d outdone myself. It went as follows:

“21-year-old female looking for someone to spice up my life and show me the best parts of the city. Ideal man will be over 6ft, funny and have (or have access to) a dog. Hit me up if interested!”

I quickly realized that the reason they call these kind of dating methods ‘old-school’ is because everyone using them is just that – old. While advertising my desire for love was successful in the sense that I got a fair few responses, it proved to be less so when it was clear that all of the men who contacted me were well on their way to (a not so early) retirement.

Speed dating

Tbh, this whole process was weird. You walk into a room of strangers (who you immediately realize are about twice your age and twice as desperate) and then get seated opposite some random while you try and make timed and awkward conversation. What’s more, it literally feels like a live-action Tinder trial. As soon as you’re sat opposite your first candidate you immediately start to mentally swipe left. Then, they start to tell you a bit about themselves – all of which could be summarized in a snappy four-line bio. Before you know it, the whole three minutes is up and you’ve not even had a chance to delve into their Insta (if they had it, or even knew what it was).

What was also odd was the fact that we were sat so close to everyone else. Like, I literally had Paul eyeing me up while he was mid-convo with Lesley-Anne. I mean Jeez, Paul, she’s right there! All in all, I would say speed dating is great for someone who is (how shall I put this?) in the evening of their life. Not so great, however, for anyone looking to find a lover under the age of 65. I had some great chats with some very nice men, who even gave me a few dating tips from their many, many years of experience. Not a total fail.

Getting set up by a friend

Surprisingly, this was actually quite hard to pull off. Firstly, my friends thought the idea of setting me up was weird. Secondly, they couldn’t think of anyone ‘suitable’. After I literally begged and kissed my dignity goodbye, one of my go-to gal pals finally pulled it out the bag and the next thing I knew I was dressed up and on my way to a snazzy bar.

Unfortunately, I quickly established why my friends had concluded that they didn’t know anyone ‘suitable’ if by ‘suitable’ they meant ‘not a raging psychopath’. Ok, maybe psychopath is a bit harsh, but this guy did spend a solid 30 minutes telling me about the various ways you have to adapt layers of paper to create cardboard. Believe you me, I for one was not aware that there were in fact so many ways. Needless to say I made my excuses and ran for my life (and my sanity).

Returning an item to the store, just so I could give the cute cashier a receipt with my number on it

Apparently, this had happened to a friend of mine and sounded like exactly the kind of no-fucks-given-I’m-desperate-for-love technique that I was looking for. The only trouble was that in order to find a fitting man to trap in my carefully strung web of lust I had to venture into unknown territory. By that, I of course mean a hardware store. Upon entering said store I picked up a hammer because, tbh, that was the only thing I recognized and made my purchase.

I went in the next day to return what was clearly an unsuitable hammer for my extensive and very important home-made architectural masterpiece and was met with what I can only describe as the DON of all things DIY. He was gorgeous. I explained my “situation” and gingerly handed over the receipt which clearly had my name, number and a cheeky wink face for good measure. He paused, smirked to himself and said “Is this meant for me?”

As brave as I could I batted my lashes and replied “Yes” before giving him an actual cheeky wink and strutting out of the store. A few hours later I received a message saying “Hey, you forgot to get your money back on that hammer! And you forgot to arrange a date for us to hang out.” R.E.S.U.L.T.

Literally just approaching cute guys in the street because why the hell not

If I do say so myself, this move was smooth.

Essentially, I would take to the streets like a predator in the wild, scout out the best-looking guy and walk behind him for a bit before exclaiming “Oh sorry, excuse me – I think you dropped this” handing him a piece of paper with my name, number and (ofc) a cheeky wink face. The first time I did this it didn’t go too well as the man in question just looked at me in confusion replying “This definitely isn’t mine” and continued to walk on at a slightly faster pace. Rude.

However, the second guy (who tbh was far hotter anyway) seemed quite amused by the whole situation and said, “Oh thanks, I couldn’t lose something as important as this.” Judging from his accent and devilish charm he was Spanish/Italian so clearly more prone to appreciating my attempts at actual romance. De nada.

Buying a guy a drink at the bar (but in a really bad ass way)

How I thought I could actually get away with this I do not know, but hell I had nothing to lose at this stage. A few of my friends work at a particularly suave bar in the city so I got them in on the plot and away we went. I dressed up in my finest garms (killer heels and all) and found myself a prominent spot on the bar where I could eye up any potential in the room. I noticed a couple of semi-decent guys sat at the other end of the bar, so got one of my friends to pour a drink and send it over to them, saying that it was from me. I think it helped that the men in question were already a bit buzzed, as they somehow managed to look past the creepiness of this gesture and we started chatting. Two numbers up and I was on a roll.

Overall I’d say going old-school was certainly more interesting than the monotony of Tinder’s swipe system. Plus, it was actually a lot more successful than I expected. So put those phones away because romance is real and waiting to be found.