A MODERN WOMEN'S GUIDE TO TINDER – New Rules Novel | New Rules Novel



Camera gear was piled up outside – no apparent owner nearby. You see this all the time, thousands of dollars worth of gear and no crew in sight – but the fact it was outside Comedy Cellar was a very good sign. Surely there was only one comedian that would be filming here.

Charlotte had a Tinder date bail on her at the last minute, so I responded to her group text. Any distraction to get me out of work was welcome at the moment, Katie, the intern on the project was driving me crazy. So many ridiculous questions – like she had to keep funneling something out her mouth just to keep it from closing up.

We shivered in the line outside, six people from the front. “This is pretty formal for a Tinder date?” I said, “Someone special?”

“Emma my dear. You have to suggest something decent, scares off the creepers who are out for an easy lay.”

Charlotte is our wise sage of Tinder, employing us to use it to our advantage. I feel I should share some of her guidance over the last couple of years, sprinkled with some of my own experience.

Rule 1: Weed Out The Creepers

You need a way to sift through the thousands of guys that are only after sex. The trick is to send signals that it’s not going to be easy for them. Move to texts as soon as possible and engage them in some form of dialog that makes them put two thoughts together. Schedule dates at odd times such as midday or events that require more commitment than a late night drink.

If you’re only after a hookup, ignore all of the above, but at least stalk them online before you meet up.


Downstairs we were shown to a table right in front of the stage, the thought of the comedians ripping into me made me a little uneasy, which also made it kind of fun. The first guy jumped up and started with a joke about growing up with a single mum. “All this swiping right on Tinder. Back in the day my mum used to cruise for dick from the back of the newspaper.”

It was intense sitting so close, but it made everything funnier, like you were constantly on the edge ready to laugh. He was probably the best looking comedian that I’d ever seen, tall, good hair. I was still praying he wouldn’t pick on me.

Rule 2: The Profile

Don’t obsess over your profile shots, and don’t post glamour head shots. The rule seems to be, the more skin you show, the thirstier the messages. But you knew that already. I’m all for catchy bio’s but don’t try to express your hopes and dreams. A guy from work showed me this one the other day, her bio line is “My nickname is Gillette because I’m the best a man can get. Also I will cut you.”


The black women hosting the night jumps back onstage, tells a joke about the weird way her much younger white boyfriend looks at her afro, likens herself to a black panther rather than a cougar and then pauses. “As you know we often get a few surprise guests rolling up…” she smiles, “I’d like everyone to welcome Louie C.K.”

The room explodes, we had considered getting nose bleeds to see him a week earlier at the MSG, and now we are front row in a tiny venue. Amazing! Charlotte is bouncing in her seat, hands on her cheeks. A guy with a big steadicam steps onto one side of the stage as Louie walks up and nods to us all. He grabs the mic and flicks through a notepad, before leaving it on the piano, open to a specific page.

“In my show people don’t actually like me all that much, so I’m going to come on again, and if you could pull it back a bit.” He does it again, and we are almost totally silent. “Ok, not that quiet.” He says, before kicking into a joke about wanting to have the power to kill his own daughter from twelve miles away, just to hold it over her. It’s the second joke about dead kids tonight, likely inspired by the recent Super Bowl commercial.

 Rule 3: Restrict Your Time. Get In, Get Out.

Life is too short to spend hours on this app. It does not hold the answers to your problems. Match with a bunch of people, send off some messages and put it away. I know a girl who checks her matches before a presentation at work, an instant ego kick – using it as motivation to get out of bed and face a hangover.


Louie looks over at his notepad, then flicks the page on the pad. His hair and beard is longer than I’ve ever seen it, I keep getting distracted by the camera guy on the stage, floating around.

“The average life span is now 80, scientist’s keep extending it, but it’s not like they are cramming more good years in around your twenties. They are just sticking them on the end.”

He glances down at us, you can really see the sweat on his head from this angle. I doubt he is nervous, it’s just warm in here, and he is a pretty big guy.

“90 year olds should be able to do whatever the fuck they want. What trouble are they causing anyone? Give them a bag of heroin. What are they gonna do, ruin their career?”

Rule 4: Never use Tinder as an excuse

A friend of Viv’s was checking this guy out at a bar the other night, and instead of going up to talk to him, she turned her location settings all the way down on Tinder and tried to find him. Ridiculous. Never resort to an app when a real life opportunity presents itself.

I really wanted to ask him, “Are you on Tinder?” Just to spark something. To turn a cool story of seeing Louie C.K. into an epic interaction.

He tried a bunch of half finished jokes. After a weird punch line that fell flat, he flicked through his pad some more then asked if anyone had any questions. Nothing. I really wanted to ask him, “Are you on Tinder?” Just to spark something. To turn a cool story of seeing Louie C.K. into an epic interaction. But the words didn’t come and the opportunity was over. He said thanks and goodnight. I thanked Charlotte for making it happen.

“Are you free to come by work tomorrow?” She asked, “I have a bunch of dresses you can try.”

“Yes! That would be amaze. Would be so good to cross that off the list. So gutted that you can’t come next weekend.”

“I know, it sucks. My family have terrible timing.”

“It’s the all-star weekend as well. Lots of ball players. You love tall guys.”

“Maybe not that tall.” She smiles. “They might give Michael a shock to his system, see the opportunities you are passing up for him.”

“He better be on form. I don’t even want him to come if he is going to get in one of those moods. I’ll be working, I can’t sit with him all night.”

A guy jumps on the stage and complains how he was meant to open for Louie at the MSG but the show was cancelled because of #Snowmageddon2015. He looks around the room and asks everyone to raise their hand if they have never been cheated on. I raise mine, but fist full of questions dagger my head as Charlotte looks over at me, her hand remains by her side.

“Everybody cheats!” he says, “Even Ghandi was a cheat. Look it up. The dude could go two weeks without food but no more than two hours without pussy.”



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