Believe it or not, I’m single. *Audience gasps before falling into stunned silence*

I know. I’m as surprised as you are. What woman wouldn’t want a guy who has a Mac Jones jersey mounted on his wall that he only washes after a loss?

(Seriously though ladies I’m funny as hell, a gourmet chef/baker, make good money in spite of not having a job, great conversationalist, know how to playfully joke around with the parents without overstepping, own several oversized sweatshirts you can steal, and have the olive skin and broad chest of an original Olympian — just give me a fucking chance).

My compelling plea aside, I, like many single 20-somethings, now rely on dating apps, mainly Hinge, to arrange my rendezvous’ with the fairer sex (ok sentences like that may be part of the reason why I’m single).

But Hinge is unfortunately kind of a hellscape.

It’s a bunch of people who you have no connection to, lying about their appearance, and forcing awkward interactions based on personality traits they made up to seem more appealing. No judgement on the appearance embellishment btw. I’m definitely not the 225 lbs that some of my pics would lead you to believe.The personality stuff I can’t get behind though. You’re telling me EVERY girl wants to watch Redzone all Sunday and learn how to golf? Cap. The second we start dating you’re going to make me go on a nature walk or some shit during the Pats game.

Anyways, I have the occasional positive Hinge experience and know several people that have met their SO’s via the app, so it’s not all bad.

But as an egomaniac who needs to be the center of attention/receive external validation at all times, I use Hinge primarily as a means to try out bits. Virtually everything on my profile is sarcastic. Let’s take a look at the anatomy of a Hinge profile, shall we:

STRONG start to the profile right here. First picture screams class, sophistication, and hair that’s gelled primarily by my own sweat. It shows I’m a man of some means who always has the perfect amount of stubble. You look at my diesel arms and you see a strong guy, capable of lifting furniture or carrying you out of the house in the event of a fire. Then the shirt. An ironic Gucci t-shirt that says Gnocchi. It’s playful, it’s light, it’s what women want.

Next, you move onto the first prompt. The prompt itself tells women this is a man who travels. He’s worldly. He’s been some places, seen some shit. Then you read my answer to the prompt. For those of you not well-versed in the linguistic arts, (again, I see why I’m single), that’s a haiku about me winning a poetry contest. Refined, educated, douchebag. These are words that no doubt come to the minds of lustful women realizing they’ve just found Mr. Right.

Sidenote: True story that I won a poetry contest in an Irish pub while somewhat buzzed. They give you 5 words and you have 10 minutes to make a poem using all of them. Some dude who was so old that I think he invented time took like an hour to move 3 feet to the microphone and delivered a dark, gritty poem about the end of days or something. I get up there and spew some nonsense about a dog and bring the house down. Father time was pissed. Got a pint of Guinness out of it.

Back to the profile:

Keep the bio short, sweet, and above all, honest. You’ll notice I could have put 6’0” for my height, but chose to give my actual height. Can’t start the relationship off on a false note. Also, despite being 3/4” away from actually being 6’0” I haven’t met one girl who thought I eclipsed that threshold. Girls have a sixth (foot) sense.

The dichotomy of man. This is very strategic on my part. Both photos demonstrate I’m a fun guy regardless of the season. But you’ll notice the first one is vaguely scummy. Got a BC-themed beer sweatshirt, a beer belt, sunglasses I stole from someone who came to my house, and am missing my mouth on a beer pour. It screams “life of the party.”

The second photo meanwhile is much more refined. I’m wearing a kimono, once again demonstrating my worldliness and possible asian fetish. You’ll note the wine in my glass is quite irregularly colored. That’s because it’s natural, organic wine that has that extra bit of funk to it for a more interesting drinking experience (I fully understand why I’m single). Then my bare chest. Hairy, golden, glistening. These are the signs of a testosterone-fueled man that women want to see in their prospective breeding partner.

Also, my stubble really is always on point.

And no I didn’t piss myself in the second one. That’s either wine or water I didn’t fully towel off from the hot tub. Moving on.

This one isn’t funny, it’s just my actual favorite line from my actual favorite movie. Gotta throw some real stuff in there to make it more authentic. Can’t all be bits. Great clip/massive spoiler for those of you who haven’t seen Good Will Hunting.

As we continue down the profile, it’s important that you put the same amount of effort into the end as you did the beginning. These are the photos/prompts that can make or break you.

Ok I’ve never really looked at these photos as a whole and I’m starting to think I’m an alcoholic. Probably not coincidental that the only pictures where I look happy have booze in them. Whatever. Will use my Irish half to shove that down so the Greek half can keep living in blissful denial. Regardless, this again shows I’m a fun guy who wildly mixes a peanut butter espresso martini and an IPA. It also reinforces the notions that I own cool shirts and have pythons for arms. Smart photo here.

Kind of a funny answer, but that’s not the point of this prompt. This shows that I’m intelligent enough to teach myself a song on the piano without actually knowing how to play the piano. To this day I can play the Office theme and only the Office theme on piano. Can’t read music, never took lessons, couldn’t tell you which keys are which. So it creates intrigue. Why did you learn only that one song? Why not learn how to actually play? When could knowing the Office theme ever possibly serve you in life? How much fucking free time do you have? She’s asking questions, which means she’s interested.

A couple decent photos to close things out. Can’t go too strong here. The female viewer is likely overwhelmed with sexual energy by this point in the profile, so I need to ease her into the next loser she swipes to.

One photo is from college and is only included cause my hair is on point, and again, absolute pipes for arms. The second one is the obligatory fish photo. Can’t have a Hinge profile without a fish photo. Also wow I’ve really gotten some good mileage out of that beer belt.

And that ladies and gents is the anatomy of a superior Hinge profile. It’s served me well and gotten me very limited action. Any single women out there who are undoubtedly turned on right now, take a cold shower then hit me up. I’d be delighted to treat you to some tapas. Any women in a relationship, your boyfriend probably sucks if you really think about it. Consider moving on and moving up. I’ll be waiting, likely with tapas.

Stay tuned in the coming weeks for more Hinge-related content. I’m going to start a new series showing you some of my better interactions on the app. Get excited.