It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of an iPhone must be in want of a swipe.

One of the most annoying things about being single is that your married friends often accuse you of being picky, as if there was a whole world of soul mates out there, not just one.

So, to prove I’m really not picky I decided to swipe right to EVERY man on Tinder for a week.


What’s the worst that could happen? This.

SUNDAY

It’s day one, I’m an hour in and I’ve already swiped right on 80 men, most of whom would have been definite left swipes. This is very uncomfortable. Tinder is my favourite way of meeting men, precisely because you don’t have to talk to the ones you’re not attracted to.



It’s like having a bodyguard who puts a hand on unwanted suitors’ shoulders and says ‘the lady said no’.

On the plus side, I never message men first, so maybe swiping right on them all won’t make much difference.

How I got a date, several numbers and the offer of hot sex using only emojis on Tinder

Monday

I decide to go hard or go home.

I get up early and spend a good half hour swiping right to, among others, two tattooed body parts (no face pics, just arms and shins), three football logos (I don’t watch sport) and a cute guy with a leopard (okay, he’ll do).

In the middle of my swipe-fest, Tinder intervenes with the electronic equivalent of a chastity belt.

Oops (Picture: Yvette Caster/Metro)

I’m barred from swiping right for a day.

It appears I am too promiscuous for the most notorious hook-up app in the land.

I am a swipe slag.

I feel both strangely proud and relieved. Thank you, Tinder, you saved me from myself.

As I drive to work I hear several little pings meaning new messages and feel a mixture of pleasure and guilt.

I don’t know if I’d date any of these men.

Still, I have 43 matches and seven messages before 9am.

Here’s what happened when I sent Tinder men Dick pics

TUESDAY

In keeping with the ‘swipe right’ mentality of the experiment, I reply to all the messages I get this week.

Even the ones with aggressive amounts of question marks.

Even the ones who don’t know when to use capital letters or the difference between there, their and they’re.

Even the ones already giving me three virtual kisses (playaaaaaaaaaaaaa).

Yes, I even replied to this guy. He’s probably not The One (Picture: Yvette Caster/Metro)

I still don’t message anyone first but still, so far, 22 have messaged me.

Twenty-four hours have passed and my ‘swipe slut’ ban has lifted, but I decide to concentrate on the conversations instead.

I’m quite grateful to the men too busy, shy or just not into me enough to want to message.

I don’t understand why they bother swiping right if they’re not going to though.

WEDNESDAY

With 22 conversations to keep going I can see why some people copy and paste the same message to everyone.

It’s not my style but I don’t want to risk being late for work, so I send them all cheery good mornings and a sun emoji.



Later, I get talking about dating with a colleague and he helpfully informs me I have ‘terrible banter’.

Could this explain why none of the 22 have asked me out yet?

Still, I’m too busy at work to reply to the men again until I get home at 10pm.

None seem bothered I’ve kept them waiting. Some have sent several messages to fill in the gaps.

I decide to start being as disgustingly honest about myself as I can in the hope I’ll repel them.

Men aren’t put off by weirdos who eat chocolate in bed, apparently (Picture: Yvette Caster/Metro)

It backfires and one of them asks for my number.

It also turns out that one of the guys has asked me on a date and has been waiting for a reply all day.

Another, who posts ‘look at my (not very good) guns’ pics and quotes The Matrix in his biog, also wants my digits.

I’m really not attracted to him and, frankly, all the evidence points to him being a massive knob.

I give up on the chats for a bit and go back to swiping right to a crossed-eyed baby, a group shot of laaaaads and a skydiving monkey.

By the time I’ve finished it’s nearly 1am. Who has time for this?

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THURSDAY

I’m now flirting with three men via text. Unfortunately I haven’t saved their numbers so have no real idea which is which. I do know, however, that none of them are genuine ‘rights’.


One of them WhatsApps me: ‘Hi. So I finally have your number (winky face).’

I am in agreement with Will from The Inbetweeners – the winky face is the mark of a moron – but I text one back, so it looks like we’ve got something in common.

Another tells me he’s free on Friday, but doesn’t ask me out. I carry on chatting, ignoring the hint, and wait for him to grow some balls.

Back on the app, I’m really surprised liking a Spurs logo profile pic has led to one of the most civilised conversations.

Choosing to lead with a football logo suggests to me thug, sports bore or someone who’s not physically attractive.

But he looks fine in his other photo.

FRIDAY

One guy – who I do genuinely fancy – has just told me he wants to take me to a hotel and give me ‘something special’, so ‘Ha!’ colleague implying I’ve got no game.

He’s probably not my future husband though.

I get a WhatsApp message from another asking when we can become boyfriend and girlfriend.

‘Never’ is the honest answer but at least now when people ask why I’m single I can show them said message as proof people are still asking.

Against all probability, someone actually wants to be my boyfriend (Picture: Yvette Caster/Metro)

Then I flirt with a ‘left’ who looks like he’d strip your church roof of copper if you left him alone with it for five minutes.

But he does ask me on a date.

Later, reading the flirty messages from a guy 11 years younger than me, I actually giggle for the first time in about three years.


In real life men hardly ever flirt with me, so it’s a welcome change, even though I’d never date him.

SATURDAY

I’m meant to be cooking lunch for some friends but forget to put stuff in the oven in time because I’m so busy swiping right to a guy whose profile pic quite possibly features his wife, two guys who look like an French electro pop duo, a guy in a leopard print cowboy hat, a cartoon man, a man whose intro is ‘with me sex is inevitable’ and ‘Anthony The Cat’.

I now have 69 matches and it’s confusing the hell out of me.

For the first time ever I see the point of the search function.

I’m having ‘real life’ conversations with five guys now, and three dates coming up.

This could be the best thing I’ve ever done in my love life, or I’m just wasting everyone’s time.

Depends how the dates go I guess.

What I’ve learnt

1. When trying to carry off conversations with 22 men, emojis are your friend – deep and meaningfuls will only lead to missed trains.

2. Men with poor profile pics don’t send dick pics, possibly because they get less action and have more to lose.

3. Players are amazing at admin.

4. If you’ve got ‘rubbish banter’ it doesn’t matter. Fundamentally, men like tits more than banter. That’s just science.

5. No matter how many men message you, you can’t help but wonder why the ones who swiped right but didn’t, didn’t.

6. If you’re feeling a bit ugly, or just miss flirting, you can do a lot worse than closing your eyes and swiping right.

7. All the time I spend working and commuting means I probably don’t have time for a boyfriend. Unless I can find someone who does exactly the same commute, then we can shag on the train or something. Hm. If only there was an app for that…

NB

In case you were wondering, the dates were lovely but there was no spark, and we’ve remained friends (by which of course I mean they asked for a second date, I said no and we’ve never spoken since).

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