It had been six months since my boyfriend and I broke up, and the likelihood that I would meet another tall, dark and handsome stranger at a Brooklyn BBQ seemed slim.
My confidence shot, I’d been perusing dating innovations—Sparkology, How About We, Tinder—but all resulted in dead ends.
Unless you like prostitutes—I mean, that's guaranteed sex right there. You can tell me, I'm not a cop* Let's face it, after Tinder took off, the appeal of Ok Cupid started to wane—much like the flaccid penises who were getting ignored by the instant gratification swipe of Tinder.
When the lights came up, I tried to recalibrate, but people were already leaving, more focused on autographs than eye-fucking.
Some film stars made it and some didn't—take Buster Keaton, for example, he tried singing. People want sex and they want it now—from the moment the app is downloaded to the moment of the actual date, the number of steps is, frankly, too high.
You have to sign up, write a profile, sift through other profiles—the average millennial's attention span is about the size of the period at the end of this sentence.
Mixxxer takes the carefree sentiment of casual swiping and infuses it with the high-octane close-up shots of vulvas that you see on sites like Live Jasmin.
It's a no-nonsense approach to dating apps with its "I'm here to f*ck" mentality," but when you see that most of the users may/may not (but definitely are) legit prostitutes, the fun is lost.
Before the show, I told my friends about the return of my mojo, as I scoped out the room.