1. It’s a simple rule, and yet a crucial one: you’ve GOT to have more than one photo of yourself. For awhile I had one solitary photo to my Tinder name; matches were perpetually plummeting and I was flummoxed. But then I realized something: I never trust a guy on Tinder with only one photo to his name. In fact, by dint of having one photo he’s already 80% more likely to be rapey…So why should the same not be true for me?
A couple days ago I added three more photos to my Tinder name and I haven’t looked back.
2. When we get drunk we tend to get cocky; to have an undue sense of self-worth. Which is why I urge you not to Tinder while drunk. You see, Tinder, by its very nature, forces you to lower your standards; in other words: as 500 lumberjacks pass you by (to the left of course), things like fedoras and puka shell necklaces begin to seem more forgivable. Tinderers with cocky attitudes aren’t welcome here; it should be a safe space for all lonely and depressed 20-somethings to wallow and maybe finger a butthole or two. While drunk Tindering, you’ll get so used to swiping left that you’ll end up accidentally swiping, out of pure habit, some fine bachelor left and out of your life.
3. But don’t Tinder while too sober either; no no, you must never do that. You want to find a happy medium — one that doesn’t inflate your ego, but one that also doesn’t turn you into an over-thinking, self-hating mess. If you want to start a conversation with a match or keep your conversation going (and I know you do, or else you wouldn’t be sitting here reading this, would you?) it’s imperative you crank up the spunk and be loosey goosey. The combination is irresistible.
4. Much like the weight of having more than one photo, a bio’s influence is immense, but often ignored. Again, we need substance; we need to at least have the option to pretend that we can imagine a three-dimensional version of you. At the very least, we need to know you’re not an automaton or a monkey. Even if it means having a bio like this (taken verbatim from an unknown guy’s Tinder):
Let’s be real, I’m picturing you naked right now. If I like what I think I see, then I like you. Once I like what I think I see, I want to see more of you. If you’re thinking that you like what you think you see too, then this is gonna work out just fine.
Personally, when approaching Tinder bios, I like to go for the shock value:
5. I could tell you that Tinder is easy, but then I’d be lying. And I’m not here to lie, I’m here to expose the truth. So here it is: Tinder is taxing. If you live in Brooklyn you’ll have to pass by around 400 chevron and 200 horseshoe mustaches before stumbling on a cutie, which is why it’s important to cherish the epic nope.
An epic nope typically occurs upon finding a potential Tinder date who is epically foul — perhaps his photo is of him eating pizza at the gym, I don’t know — and after perusing their photos, triumphantly slamming down on the red “x” button. Suddenly their once-pristine photo is now stamped with a red, glaring “NOPE” and they’re gone — dropped into the detritus abyss where all who swiped left reside. It feels good; like you didn’t simply reject them, you epically rejected them; ambitiously rejected them. It’s an ideal method of letting your facial-hair frustration out, and it’s the release you’ll need to maintain afloat while riding the Tinder wave.
6. What you choose to do with the radius is up to you and no one else, I just recommend you take note of it and its potential. Perhaps you want to see all of the men active on Tinder within a 200 mile radius of yourself — and that’s fine. Just don’t come complaining to me when all of your matches live in Hoboken.
7. The swiping is all fun and games until you’re matched with someone. Then, an empty conversation box is waiting, conspicuously, in your “matches” section, imploring you to do something. Here’s a tip: use their photo(s) as a conversation starter. Call them out on their weakness for the X-Pro filter: be spunky. 
