You only looked at my profile for one-tenth of a second.
I have a picture with a tiger.
Your first picture is a group photo, and I didn’t feel like figuring out which of these sorority sisters is you.
I hate our mutual Facebook friend.
You’re only on Tinder to gain Instagram followers.
You followed me on Twitter and didn’t think I was funny.
I have the same name as your ex-boyfriend.
We live five thousand miles apart.
You’re making duckface.
I’m holding a fish and I remind you of how proud your cat acts when he brings you a severed mouse head.
You’re holding a drink in all of your pictures.
My pictures are all blurry.
I have a picture where I’m showing off my six-pack abs.
I don’t have a picture where I’m showing off my six-pack abs.
You have a picture with some dude, and that makes me jealous.
You have a boyfriend.
You know my girlfriend.
Your bio says, “Tinder is stupid.”
You look like you could beat me up.
You don’t like my sweater.
You swiped past me while you looked away from your phone to flush the toilet.
Too much pizza ’n’ whiskey.
I suspect you’re a sexbot.
You suspect I’m a murderer.
Your bio says ,“I only date guys over 6 feet tall.”
You could somehow tell that I’m 5’7”.
I put that I’m 5’7” in my bio.
One of your pictures is you hula-hooping at Burning Man.
One of my pictures is of me smugly holding up Infinite Jest.
I can’t even guess at how to pronounce your name.
I seem boring.
My picture is clearly my high-school yearbook photo.
Your inspirational quote makes no sense.
We’re both racist.
I’m not attracted to you.
You’re not attracted to me.