Is There Still Sex in the City?

Had I just found a Tinder unicorn?

More Blow Jobs

Almost immediately, in what was now becoming a pattern, Jude started telling me how awful Tinder was and how the guys on it were only interested in one thing: sex.

“But what kind of sex?” I asked.

“Blow jobs,” he said grimly.

“But what about cunnilingus?”

He shook his head. “Some women don’t like it. Anyway, Tinder is all about the guy getting off. As quickly and as easily as possible.”

“Surely all men aren’t like that?”

He said nothing.

“Are you like that?”

He shook his shaggy head and ran his hand through his hair, embarrassed.

I decided that even if Jude had once been “like that,” clearly he was trying to reform. That was probably why he’d agreed to meet with me in the first place.

Jude ordered a beer and immediately started telling me about his ex-girlfriend.

Of course, the whole relationship story was sad. It sounded like Jude really, really liked this girl. They were together for over a year, and she was the same age and he said she was a pretty big deal in the music business. She was successful he said.

But Jude had his own career. He’d spent the last three months touring with his band in Europe. Going to Berlin and places like that. Getting paid.

“I might want to move to Berlin,” he said, glancing down shyly.

I’d had half a glass of wine by then and was feeling more relaxed. “You won’t move to Berlin,” I said reassuringly.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because it’s stupid. It’s a waste of time. Far better to make what you’ve got here work.” I almost patted his hand. “Don’t worry. It will all be fine.”

Or maybe it won’t.

Jude revealed that his family was troubled. He thought his father was bipolar. His uncle had killed himself. Meanwhile, his grandmother insisted on ignoring it all.

“It’s years of undiagnosed mental illness,” he said, reminding me of my conversation with the Tinderellas.

Jude promised that he was okay and, perhaps feeling like he’d revealed too muc

h, changed the topic to a recent trip he’d taken to Berlin. He listed a handful of drugs he’d consumed on a three-day bender. I was tempted to remind him that taking illegal drugs in a foreign country was almost always a really bad idea, but I didn’t want to sound like his mother.

I gently steered the topic back to Tinder.

Jude pointed out that Tinder was gamed against women because it was created by the sexist minds of men who wanted to increase their chances of getting laid.

“It’s all about what can you do for me? Men see women as commodities. Objects. Because it’s on a screen,” Jude explained. “That makes it not real. You can take that image of a woman and do whatever you want to her in your brain.”

We talked about the male gaze and how awful it was. About how Tinder brought out the worst in guys, reducing them to nothing more than their base instincts.

The Ugly Truth

I woke up the next morning with what felt like an emotional hangover.