The Intergalactic Business Report’s own dating and relationship expert, Tessa Miggs, tells our readers to stop going on Tinder and try this instead. See her column below:
As a dating expert for more than five years, the most common question I receive is whether I want to meet up somewhere for a drink and then maybe have sex. And that’s from my boss. From everyone else it’s more like, How do you find true love in a world of Tinder hookups? Today I have that answer and instead of charging for it, I’m going to straight up tell you.
I’m not going to say you need to be patient or selective or even safe about the choices you make when you meet people romantically. And I’m not going to waste your time by telling you that even though instant hookups are easy, they’re also shallow and skip the vetting process that was once known as courtship. Oh, and that courtship served a purpose where you got to know someone beyond just their dick or vagina and the small talk and the drinks and the dicks and vaginas. All of that is nonsense made up by people who are trying to bore you till you fall asleep and they can molest you. Right?
Anyway, after going through tons and tons of Tinder dates, I finally realized one thing, and that’s what I’m sharing with you today. All those dudes. All those dicks… I guess what I’m saying is that after 72 straight nights of meeting random men and sometimes just saying fuck it I don’t even want to meet up for drinks first, just tell me where you live, I discovered something I probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t slept with all of them and made them not even work for it—not even a little.
I’m going to turn twenty-nine. Twenty-fucking-nine. What the fuck happened to all those years? Like yesterday I was in a sorority and Tinder wasn’t even a thing. Now some people are telling me it’s not even a thing now and that I’m the only one on it. Which can’t be true because all those dudes I meet are clearly on it, so how would that even be possible?
Then it’s like I’m the dumb crack-smoking whore because I’m still single and all my friends have husbands or serious boyfriends or some shit? One of my friends told me she met her husband at a library. At a fucking library? Were you there to read books or something? What the fuck is that even about? I’ve got a book recommendation. It’s called the big pop up book of my fat cooter. Wanna read it? I’m serious. I published it last week. You can actually read it. It’s one big page. Of my cooter.
Whoops I almost forgot about my advice. Yup, I lost it. Does your fucking memory end at twenty-nine too? Anyway, buy the cooter book.
Tessa Miggs is the relationship and dating expert for the Intergalactic Business Report. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org
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