Damien Galeone

It happened on a Tuesday. “I’m in a bad mood,” I wrote to a friend.

“Well,” she said, “if it makes you feel any better, I just came across a friend’s husband on Tinder.”

Not entirely sure why someone else’s misfortune in the form of a cheating husband would brighten my mood, I didn’t answer. Rather, I sought solace in mindless sitcoms and the adding of cheese to ground beef. I literally grumbled around my flat until it was time to sleep.

The Tinder thing kept coming back to me, though. Undoubtedly it is a tempting resource for those looking for play on the side. It is, after all, a Rolodex of single, pretty people within 10 miles of you. However, your understanding of reality has to be a bit lacking if you don’t think you’re going to get caught trolling for a rendezvous partner.

There are fail safes. I think one can hide their profile from a specific variety of possible swipers. I think it’s also possible to block your profile from being viewed at all, so that you can essentially window shop for a mistress with a mask on.

But overall, it just seems like a thing that’s going to blow up in your face. One of your partner’s friends or loved ones is bound to see you on there and if you are married or in a long-term relationship and polygamy or Tinder aren’t part of the deal, you are going to have a lot of explaining to do.

I imagined a shrill argument filled with traps, accusations, denials, and crying. I pictured an angry hurt person and a moron trying to calm them with platitudes all while trying to maintain their Tinder profile. Still, it didn’t put me in a better mood.

My mood had not improved by the time I received this correspondence from a reader the following day.

As a Cat Guy, I thought you’d love this:

What it seemed to be, at first glance, was something like a Cat Tinder. And that’s what it ended up being after second glance and after the third glance. Chcipohlazeni.cz asks visitors to swipe left and right on local cats. There is a Rolodex of cat profiles to scan, swiping right means you can adopt the cat, visit it for belly rubs, or finance the cat’s necessities like shots, other medical treatments, and food.

It was somewhat depressing that someone thought this would be perfect for me. Comfortable though I am at poking fun at my Cat Guy persona, someone actively sending me this stung like mockery. This depression was exacerbated by the fact that it totally worked.

In five minutes I was scrolling through kitty profiles and wondering if the B Monster needed a little sister or brother. I found three or four cats that were the textbook definition of adorable. And the site made them helpless and in need. Irresistible. My mind scrolled down my latest bank statement and I wondered if I had enough to finance a couple of kitty’s meds and could schedule a belly rub or two.

My cat sat on the floor next to my desk with a doleful expression on her puss. That look said in a shrill voice, “How dare you?”

And I thought, “well, how did you even know?”

“Marek the alley cat saw you on there! Did you really think you’d get away with it?”

I pointed to the app screen. “What? This? They mean nothing to me!”

“I wish I could believe you.”

And now the cat’s not talking to me. So instead of a new cat, I have the cat from before and she’s pissed. And this is an animal I can close into my living room, so I really have no idea why these guys would fool around on Tinder.

PS: If you love cats, have a heart of gold, and would like to contribute, check out the website above.