“WELSH girls will do anything in the bedroom”… “Are you the bottom of my laptop? Coz you’re really hot.”
These are just two of the jaw-droppingly awful chat-up lines I’ve received since trying out Facebook’s new dating app for the first time.
The service launched last month, giving users the chance to match with those who have similar interests and even go on video dates while Britain remains in lockdown.
And as someone who feels like she’s exhausted every other dating avenue over the last few months, I jumped at the chance of finding love on good old social media.
Dating in my hometown of Cardiff is hard work – clubs are full of teenagers and pubs are full of men old enough to be my grandfather.
I’ve been officially single for around a year now and most recently the guy I was dating asked if I’d mind if he was to go out and ‘s**g somebody else’, because I was one day into a two-week local lockdown.
All I want is to find somebody who fancies me even when I don’t wash my hair for a week, and I can love despite wanting to smother them every night. (So a marriage… I’m basically looking for a husband.)
What I got from Facebook Dating were messages that, at best, made my face scrunch up like I’d eaten a lemon, and at worse made me feel like I’d been dunked in a tub of slimy gunk… and was in desperate need of a shower!
Kicking things off
I told nobody that I was about to try yet another dating app. Friends would only laugh that I was setting myself up to wade through hundreds more ‘what you looking for on here then babe xx’ messages.
Even though I was told that none of my Facebook friends would be suggested in Facebook Dating, I was secretly hoping that the fitty I had to send three friend requests to would pop up with his beaming smile.
After answering all the usual questions, I was asked what I’m looking for.
The answer? Somebody who wants to voluntarily rewatch Love, Actually with me and feed my hormonal body Maltesers ice cream by the tub load.
‘My personality type is’
The prompts that Facebook Dating gives you to describe your personality are helpful, but I was more interested in the part where I could add little anecdotes about myself.
My top reveals were ‘what I’m listening to at the moment’ and going in heavy with ‘my favourite topic of conversation’, because I don’t want to attract somebody who belongs in 1985.
Are those prompts doing well for me so far? Not so much. Note to self: be less historic in music choice, and perhaps less aggressive with future hopes for politics.
As the likes weren’t flooding in instantly once my profile was all set up, I decided to get acquainted with the app’s features.
Something unique is the option to explore a ‘Secret Crush’.
This optional feature means you can explore potential relationships with people you already know on Facebook and sister app Instagram.
I avoided this in pure fear of an ex or childhood bully-turned-admirer appearing.
‘My first 40 likes were all from Ireland’
The app has been noted for having several glitches, however.
Unfortunately, I experienced these too, and matches disappeared as the app kept crashing.
After it was quiet in my first few days of registering, I noticed a large number of the guys on there were the kind that I, perhaps stereotypically, usually find are looking for casual flings.
Plenty of tribal tattoos, and every other photo containing a vape, a thrown up V sign or a topless mirror pic with too much pubic hair on show for anyone’s good.
There are also nowhere near as many users as there are on other apps, even though I’m in a big city, and for that reason I feel it’s far less likely that I’ll ever stumble upon a future husband.
My first 40 likes were all from Ireland. I had better book a ferry.
How Facebook Dating works
Facebook’s debut to the world of online dating allows users to find, like and match with others who are interested in similar groups, events and pages.
In order to match with somebody, you have to like a person’s whole profile or respond directly to one of their questions, photos, or Instagram posts.
To build a profile, you’re asked the most basic of questions – your name, age, gender, home town, where you work and where you studied.
Then you’re asked what you’re looking for – with everything from ‘chatting’ through to a full-blown serious relationship as options.
Following that, the more in-depth personal information includes whether you have children, smoke or drink.
Then Facebook offers a series of prompts to share snippets of your personality, hobbies and interests, as well as funny anecdotes – allowing you to get creative.
You can then filter through matches by narrowing down age range, religion and more.
‘Welsh girls are filth‘
Then came the cringe chat-up lines…
One guy actually opened his second message with: “Only thing I know from previous experiences with Welsh girls is they’ll do anything in the bedroom.” Wow.
Another guy at least gets points for creativity, saying: “Hey I hope you’re keeping positive while testing negative?”
Screenshots are sent to my best friend and we have many giggles at the crude and outrageously confident behaviour of strangers.
‘He offered to recite a Horrible Histories song to me’
Meanwhile, one Irish gent earned himself an immediate ‘unmatch’ when he responded to my favourite dance floor song – Gimme, Gimme, Gimme! – with, “I prefer Britney”.
Another guy went to new extremes when he asked to “borrow me” for five minutes – only to say: “For your Netflix login. Then you can go back to England.”
I was impressed with Tom*, however, who offered to recite a Horrible Histories song to this history nerd. Tudor knowledge is my aphrodisiac of choice.
But after a few days of laughs and eye rolls, I finally matched with Chris*.
He boasts of his good tea making, love of High School Musical and his broad collection of knitwear. I like him already.
He doesn’t smoke, has no children, a degree under his belt and lives only a short drive away. This must be too good to be true.
Still, while things seemed to be going well, it didn’t stop the cringeworthy chat-up lines.
And while many can be ice-breakers, on a miserable Tuesday afternoon eating my pasta out of the kitchen sink (don’t ask), I was not in the mood to be compared to an overheated laptop.
Another guy compared me to a “buffet” – and the less said about that the better.
‘It’s time we became friends on Facebook’
It’s been a couple of weeks since I started using Facebook Dating now and not many have made the cut.
If they weren’t thrown off by my specific demands, I was put off by their offer of being a ‘nap partner’.
Somebody did pass the test though: Chris.
His profile is hilarious and he loves daytime telly. I think it’s time we make a serious move… and become friends on Facebook.
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Overall, I’ve matched with 102 guys that live between Cardiff and Dublin. But only one cuts the mustard so far.
Perhaps I’m picky, or perhaps everybody worth dating is shacked up for lockdown 2.0.
Things will move slowly with my Facebook Dating prince before I poke him. Wish me luck!
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