Today’s photo of the week is brought to you by Tinder.

Yes, Tinder, the app where horny boys and girls (and the occasional sane person) go to be picky and judgmental.

As a new person in a new town with no friends, I don’t have much to do in the evenings, so I’ve been on Tinder a bit more often than usual.

And sometimes, when I forget that I need to swipe left on 99.99999999% of guys, I get absolutely inundated with messages.

Basically the digital version of this:

Girl, just chilling in a big ol’ sweater, surrounded by guys who are all contemplating swooping in for the kill but who are juuuust beta enough to not do anything about it.

Jack further comments “she’s a hostage.”

Honestly, that’s how Tinder feels most of the time. You start a conversation with a guy thinking he might be interesting, but it turns out that all he wants to do is send you Ron Burgundy gifs and talk about how good you look in that outfit in your profile pic. But it’s not just one guy, it’s five or six or ten guys at a time.

Which, it’s Tinder, so what do you expect really.

The point is, it’s the online equivalent of being trapped talking to a drunk, handsy guy at a bar. There’s not a great way to extract yourself from the situation without “being a bitch,” yet the longer you stay, the more miserable you become.

This is why I don’t date much, why I’m still single, and why I mostly prefer my own company — I have yet to find a romantic high that is worth the slog.

Mostly I’m waiting for that red pill guy to come along, and the depressing reality is that the world is full of normies.