One Single Girl Explains the Escapades Behind the Latest Dating Craze, Coffee Meets Bagel
The more I date the more I think, “Damn, I definitely shouldn’t settle down.” It’s a problem, but I blame the apps. In fact, sometimes I feel like I’m dating the apps. Tinder. How About We. Zoosk. OkCupid. Grouper. Match. Coffee Meets Bagel. I need a spreadsheet.
My most recent fling is the latter, “Coffee Meets Bagel.” I mean the name alone, alludes to witty banter and a promise of scintillating conversation. So after a friend told me she had met a few “normal” guys on the app I decided sure, every app deserves a first date. As I set up my profile I was full of pre-dating app optimism. Maybe this one will result in something other than a South Bay bro trying to lure me into his pants with lines like “You look frisky” and “Hey babe, you’re my drink of choice.” Dude, have those lines ever worked, like, in the history of ever!? Okay, but was she STD-free? Yeah, didn’t think so.
I digress. Back to Coffee Meets Bagel.
It’s essentially Tinder but slightly less shallow and overwhelming. You can’t swipe through men/boys for days—subsequently wasting precious life hours—because Coffee Meets Bagel only sends you one match (your “Bagel”) per day at noon. For all you “left-swipers” out there this could be an immediate turn-off. It limits the pool, I know. But for those of you that don’t get that reference, Coffee Meets Bagel might be a perfect match.
The app only requires you provide enough background info to confirm you are, in fact, gainfully employed, well-educated and the ideal height. It also asks you to explain what you like, how you’d describe yourself in three words and what you appreciate in a date. Plus, you get four photos to prove you aren’t a swamp creature.
So, I set about finding the perfect four photos that highlighted my classy-ness, my low-maintenance-I-just-woke-up-and-always-look-this-hott-ness and, of course, my I-work-out-but-also-appreciate-burgers-from-Father’s-Office-ness. Game. Set. Match.
Little did I know what was coming. Pun intended.
Once you set up a profile Coffee Meets Bagel sends you a match and you have 24 hours to say ‘yay’ or ‘nay.’ If both say ‘yay’ you are sent a text inviting you to chat with your new match, ideally sending you on the path to dating bliss. Don’t worry it’s not a stalker’s Mecca; no one has access to your personal digits, but they can still text you for a week until the mutual line expires.
Enter, the Sexter.
This charming digital Adonis wooed me with his shared Trojan fandom, supposed athleticism and witty Sriracha jokes. Then things got weird. His initial banter, quickly crossed a delicate texting line: the one that separates the “flirt-ers” from the “sexters.” Don’t get me wrong I’m all for flirty texts—I mean it’s an imperative in the age of digital dating—but I do not want to be sexted unless we are dating. Like, I’ve-met-your-family dating.
So yeah, I entertained it for a hot second. Not going to lie, I could tell this one was going to be good for the books (blogs?). And maybe the grandchildren one day (jokes!). Can you blame me? Would you really say no to Christian Grey in your phone? But inevitably you can only half-attempt to respond to sexts for so long. And surprisingly one round of sexting with a rando is enough to satisfy you until the next Tinder make-out. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same way. And when I tried to explain real dates and real conversations were ultimately bigger turn-ons than small paragraphs on a screen, he wasn’t having it. Guess you can’t reason with a Sexter.
Now, don’t write off Coffee Meets Bagel, just because I fell ruse to a perfectly crafted profile and quick thumbs. I definitely still recommend it based on simplicity and lack of commitment (if that’s what you’re into). Plus, it forces folks to provide a few more personal details than say, Tinder. And let’s be real, everyone has different types, so who knows, for you, maybe Coffee Meets Bagel with be “the one.”
Malia enjoys sunset rollerblades, the Seahawks and well-crafted cheese plates.