Mating season, cuffing season… wedding season. *Shudders*
You know the siren song when you hear it. No matter how sensible and independent you tell yourself you’re going to be. Your roommate can’t stop gushing about her latest Tinder match and you’re a little bit lonely. But mostly enraged. Did your coworker just posted a too-perfect wedding photo? Suddenly, you wish you were engaged.
While all these scenarios might sound shallow…. at our age, in this city, the call to go on that hunt for the elusive other half seems to be sounding from all windows and rooftop (patios).
Case in point: myself. I pride myself on being the grounded type. But in my longest run of being single since I started dating at 17, I find myself doing something I said I never would. Meeting potential matches through brothers, bars, and cyber-cesspools, otherwise known as dating apps.
As a result, I — a transplant from rural New Hampshire — got a nice sampling of the “finest” the 6ix had to offer. But I noticed that most Toronto boys fall into five broad categories. I’ve outlined below, you’ve been warned.
The Suburban Drake Wannabe
Ah Drake, Toronto’s prodigal son. The former Degrassi alum has done quite the job putting Toronto on the global map. Unfortunately, he’s also cultivated an easily imitated, but never duplicated blueprint for idiots from the GTA to emulate. Especially when they wanna woo the ladies. I’m talkin’ to you suburban thugs. Trying to act gangsta, when the reality of your life is that you grew up in a nice house in Mississauga. All while spending your after school hours doing fun community activities. Your “bottom” is likely that time your parents made you work at Square One to fund your graduation trip to Cuba. So to have started there, and then to end up next to me in a King West Club trying to seduce me? Yeah, it isn’t exactly enough of a climb to warrant you requesting a song of a similar name for the fifth time that night. Leave me alone.
The Lonely Entrepreneur
Thanks to Toronto’s burgeoning scene as a start-up mecca, the city has a bounty of young, intelligent and relatively well-off mini CEOs. All waiting to get their start-ups bought out for a hefty sum of cash. Get a date with one of these boys and you think you’re about to be the Amber Heard to Toronto’s Elon Musk, or a Priscilla Chan to a lesser Zuck. But not so fast. No one said entrepreneurism is a healthy or well-balanced lifestyle. Rare, slow nights are fun — I won’t lie. From the rooftop launch parties at Lavelle to the times spent ambling around the gorgeous offices on Queen West, it all seems nice. That is until they’re failing to feed or clothe themselves. Or begin to think Soylent is an appropriate dinner date for both of you.
The Bay Street Banker
You meet a man who (seemingly) has it all together at in his mid-twenties. He has his own City Place condo (no roommates!), a Netflix account (wow), and own source of income. You’re inclined to think you’ve met someone exceptional. Well, I’ve got news for you… You haven’t. You’ve just met Patrick Bateman’s northern variant. Complete with a job in capital markets and a cottage in Muskoka. All you can really expect here is that he’ll say “sorry” more often than ol’ American Psycho ever did. Oh, and that he probably won’t hack you to bits. Otherwise, expect a play-by-play of the movie. Complete with him sneaking sideways glances of himself in the large IKEA mirror next to his bed when you’re doing the deed. Also unbelievable jealousy over everything that can be compared. Condo square footage, the institution where your B.Comm was acquired, and so on. The presents might be plentiful, but as for finding someone who actually gives sh*t about you? Look elsewhere.
The Ex-Hockey Player
Oh, ex-hockey boys! Usually, from small towns and lacking in the nauseating amount of preening that’s known to urban males. They’re like a breath of fresh air. Especially when you find yourself in an Ossington bar, suffocating behind a group of selfie-obsessed harpies. The moment of initial eye contact and your shared disgust at chicks screeching “BAE!” is going to be the moment that saves your night. Savour that, because it all goes downhill from there. That’s right, girl. Drink in the sight of his 6′ frame in those roughed up Levi’s and flannel, and walk the hell away. Underneath that pretty veneer is a whole lot of added baggage that you don’t need in your life. Every hockey match ever broadcasted is going to turn into an elegy to what could have been (heaven forbid you go on a date to a bar with a TV during the playoffs). Conversations will revolve around that “time” he “chirped” his bro, and you will get flaked on a lot. FOR NO REASON! It’s all the guts without the glory of a successful Hockey Wife life.
The Kensington Hipster with the Lit/Cinema/Classics Degree
You meet this guy and you’re stunned. You’ve never met such a man. The kind that holds PBR like it’s Dom Perignon and regales you with endless analyses of post-modern lit and everything that sucks about capitalism. (Even though his father is probably one of those forgoing Bay Street Bankers. Albeit an older model). When he brings you home, he will tell you exactly which obscure film actress you remind him of. And dear God, he will make you watch the movie with her in it — without subtitles. You’ll be flattered and enjoy it, anyway. Well, that is until you notice what you’re sitting on is a mattress on the floor. There’s mould growing on expensive Clairefontaine notebooks. The pages filled with scripts for short films that never get made. Along with outlines for essays, he will not submit due to his “anxiety” (also the reason he has a medical marijuana card, natch). Yup, he’s filthy, non-committal. Plus he’s really good at convincing you it’s you who doesn’t understand the intellectual fortitude of such an unworldly existence.
So there you have it. The 5 guys you’re bound to meet on Tinder in Toronto. Who knows. Maybe underneath each stereotype is a unique person… But who has time to dig that deep when there are six more matches on Bumble to message (and then ghost)? Marchons, mes filles! And don’t forget: every girl has to kiss a few frogs (or failures) before they meet their prince charming.
Did we miss any Toronto Tinder stereotypes? Let us know in the comment section or tweet us at @ViewtheVibe.