The free version told me eleven people had liked me and covered every one of them with a grey tile. I paid for a month, which is of course the entire purpose of the grey tiles, and behind them were four accounts I had already scrolled past and seven that had not been opened since February. The number was true. Everything it implied was not.
Twenty seven, Queens, submissive, three years in. What irritates me is not the money. It is that the model manufactures the scarcity it then sells back to you. Nobody was hiding in that grid. The grid was the product.
So I write here instead, where the whole thing is visible and free and nobody is managing my curiosity on my behalf. It is a worse product by every measure a designer would use, and a better one in the way that matters, which is that the people are genuinely there.
What I want is somebody who wants an arrangement rather than an evening. Rules, a rhythm, a check in that happens whether or not we can see each other that week.
Not looking for anybody who needs me on demand. Not looking for a correspondence that never becomes a meeting. And not looking to be somebody's practice run at being in charge, which happened last year and took four months to unpick.