Near the beginning of the Hulu show Casual – a new sitcom about online dating – there is a scene where two lustful high schoolers have sex in a hot tub.
In terms of accuracy, it’s not a good start. Sex? In high school? Chance’d be a fine thing. And in a hot tub? They might as well be having sex on Mars.
But from thereon in there are moments that most online daters and users of dating apps will recognise.
There’s the bit where main character Valerie (Michaela Watkins) is talking to her assistant about the prospect of meeting up in real life with a man she originally encountered online.
“Do you do any prep?” Valerie asks.
“I do my research. I don’t have a death wish,” the assistant replies. She says she does her research before dates: “On Facebook and Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn, Vine, Lulu, Match, OkCupid.”
Death wish or no, research before dates is essential. You need to weed out the good from the bad. The wheat from the chaff. The viable people from the idiot people.
What if someone seems great on Tinder, but you look them up on Instagram and they’ve described themselves as a “world traveller”? Or a “serious foodie”? Or a “creative type”? Or a “philanthropist” or an “adrenaline junkie” or a “truth-seeker”?
It’s just not worth the risk.
Then there’s the bit where Valerie and her brother, Alex, go on separate dates at the same restaurant. It doesn’t go well. Their dates discover that Alex (Tommy Dewey) created the dating app – Snooger – that they all met through.
“That’s really dishonest,” Valerie’s date says.
“Online dating is dishonest. You put up your best pictures and personality traits. You lie about how much money you make, how many partners you’ve had. I’ve seen both your profiles. They’re filled with lies.”
It’s all true. Take my Tinder profile, for example. My main picture is of me holding a dog. I don’t have a dog. I don’t even like dogs. It’s my friend’s dog. Someone told me it’d get me more matches.
One photo shows me with my arm pulled back, hand gripping an American football, for all the world looking like I’m about to throw a wicked spiral. I’d bought the ball that day. It was the first time I’d touched one.
I’ve got a photo that shows me with a bunch of what look like friends. I got my sister to take that picture while I stood smiling in front of a group of people I don’t know.
Snooger, Tinder, Happn, Bumble, Grindr, the other ones – it’s all the same. There are people who post pictures of themselves from years earlier. There are people who pretend to be into art. Or music. Or books. There are people who pretend to be single. There are people who pretend to be nice.
With online dating, as Alex points out, you can project the best version of yourself. Or lie about yourself. It doesn’t have to be that accurate or realistic. Think of it like a pair of high school teens having sex in a hot tub.
