Let’s talk about Bumble, the Dating App
My friend urged me to try it (I’ve been on it, I say. Try it again, she says) because I was on Coffee meets Bagel where guys are bagels and if you match, I guess you have to go for coffee.
Peer pressured and bored, I log into Bumble, add some pics and write a butt-clenching honest to god assessment of myself and what I want out of life (even mentioning therapy as a hobby.) Boy was I not in the mood! Cut to the carpal tunnel damaging repetitive motion of swiping.
No. No. No. Left. Left. Left.
I give up.
The next day, I’m in a better mood, so I rewrite my bio so as not to scare fragile guys. And I even start swiping right on a few guys and take mental notes of the abundant clichés.
He likes it when:
- A girl doesn’t take herself too seriously. (Code for: I can insult her and she won’t call me on it.)
- Shows me new things
- I’m lazy
- Knows that my dog will always be first (Dude, you’ll be single forever)
- I’m self-employed (This mean unemployed)
- Is more into me than her phone (That would be nice, also if it’s reciprocated (i.e. can you stop swiping long enough to order your meal?))
- My wife and I are in an open relationship (I’m cheating, don’t hate me)
- I’m cheating on my wife
Having to look beyond all that, I swipe on a youngish guy who’s a total fox, just for the hell of it.
We match.
No way. (Yes way, girl.)
What was his bio?
What the hell? I send a message, and he responds. It’s a totally normal conversation about food poisoning from sketchy cuisine choices. He’s at work, and he’s a computer programmer. Cute AND Smart. Is this real life?
But THEN… some odd comments get thrown in. Fishy from my standpoint, but then I’m cynical. He suddenly has to go, but he already has a sarcastic, cute nickname for me. I mention everyone thinks I’m Irish because I’m a ginger living in Boston, so he starts to call me Irish Chica.
Cut to: The Next Morning. Valentine’s Day
First comment out of the box is, “Hey I’m getting that Uber Credit Card” card. And like every woman’s dream Bumble match, he begins listing all the benefits of his new card:
I stop. My Army trained spidey senses are tingling away… I look at his profile. I google his employer and find out it’s the largest processor of credit card payments and card security providers IN THE WORLD. I look at his pictures. Stop. Too clean. Too far away. He’s so handsome, why isn’t he a model? Or an actor?
Introducing Alexander Uloom: Actor, Model, Born in Arizona, Lives in LA. You’re Welcome.
“AJ” was a profile created using Alexander’s identity by a large corporation in order to sell the idea of credit cards to unsuspecting singles. They text only during normal business hours and since they operate in several states, have committed wire fraud on top of identity theft.
I screen shot it all. I ask where he’s from, and his comment of “I’m proud of you” when I mentioned I skied for the first time and didn’t die was so condescending that it sent me over the edge.
I report his profile (Bumble doesn’t give two f*cks), I submit same info to Alexander Uloom via his professional Facebook page (they don’t give two f*cks), and I then I debated trying to bring down the largest Credit Card Processing Corporation in the WORLD because they f*cked with me on Valentine’s Day. My work out at the gym was off the hook, y’all!
Did anyone try to sell YOU a credit card this Valentine’s Day?
Update: Bumble did reach out to me and said they blocked the user, and they are instituting a mandatory photo verification system to be in place by August!
Written by Rachel
