Single in Sydney: Dating app Tinder throws up two not so great dates but Sarah Swain is sticking with it

THIS week Sarah gives dating app Tinder another go, after two disastrous dates.

SARAH Swain has been single for eight years. That’s nearly 3000 days without a boyfriend and she’s not afraid to admit it either.

That’s because it’s tough out there, as any single will tell you, so to bring hope to others across the city, she’s sharing her no-holds-barred adventures on the Sydney single scene every Friday.

THIS WEEK: I get back on Tinder

Not since Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus has something dating-related got the world fired-up.

The app Tinder, which its creators claim is to “make friends”, has revolutionised the singles world (and indeed the married one too, but that’s another story). I say revolutionised in the loosest possible sense.

A match is easy to get. What’s harder is finding a suitable one.

Tinder has fired-up the dating scene

Yes it’s easy to get a ‘match’. But chances of that match actually leading to a real life meeting, and the chances of that person not being akin to an extra from The Walking Dead and THEN not just wanting an, erm, hook-up, are less likely than Tony Abbot getting a second term.

However, I downloaded it shortly after the captain switched off the seatbelt sign when I arrived at Sydney Airport from the UK last year. You’ve got to try every avenue to get to Lovesville, right?

Pretty soon I landed a date, with a builder from the northern beaches. We had a couple of wines at Ravisi’s at Bondi Beach. He was nice enough, but he just didn’t light my fire — and I didn’t think it would be a slow burner. (He had just renovated Simon Baker’s Bondi pad though-swoon).

I downloaded Tinder as soon as the captain switched off the seatbelt sign.

I wouldn’t say no to dating a tradie.

And after a couple of drinks he offered me a lift home in his ute and asked me what I was doing later. “Going shopping to get some stuff for my new apartment,” I replied.

“Mind if I tag along?” he asked.

Now, attached ladies, you’d love your boyfriend or hubby to go with you to Witchery, give you his opinion at David Jones and hold your handbag as you shop for shoes at Nine West, right?

But I bet you’d have to bribe him with a Swans season ticket. And it seemed I’d found the only bloke in Australia, who VOLUNTEERED to go shopping.

WEEK 1: ‘I’VE BEEN SINGLE FOR 3000 DAYS’

WEEK 2: EVERY GUY UNDER 40 IS PLUGGED INTO HEADPHONES’

WEEK 3: DID BRIDGET JONES EVER HAVE IT THIS BAD?

And that’s how we ended up in Kmart Bondi Junction, where I bought a toaster, a microwave, a crockery set, cutlery, glasses (wine and tall), a dish rack, lamp, kettle, iron and ironing board and some pillows.

We looked like a loved-up couple moving into a Darlinghurst pad together.

It was rather surreal. (Interestingly, I also once went on a date to Ikea. I’ll tell you about it sometime).

Anyway, he bundled it all into his car and drove me home.

He texted me a few times after that, but I didn’t ever see him again.

So I got back to swiping, and next time I had what seems to be your more typical Tinder experience.

I had drinks with a guy who’d recently returned from London, at Frankie’s in the city.

We had lots to chat about, but things started going downhill when we discussed getting a pizza.

Before I could open my mouth, he suddenly shot off to order it at the bar, without asking what kind I wanted.

I prayed it wasn’t mushroom.

Of course, it was.

Frankie’s on Hunter Street. Good place for a date.

I’d rather eat my own hair, than a mushroom pizza. Before you call me fussy, it’s probably the only thing I can’t stand.

It was getting late anyway, and I started planning my escape as I subtly picked off the soggy vegetables.

He didn’t notice.

I debated ordering a taxi out loud, as we walked up the stairs to leave.

“Oh! I’ll pay for our taxi back to yours,” he said, no hint of a smile indicating he was joking.

I laughed, and politely told him he wasn’t coming back to mine.

And he walked off down George Street without so much as a goodbye.

This Frankie’s pizza: Nice. Mushroom? Not so much.

Over a hot chocolate at The Book Kitchen, my friend gave me some tips.

Still. I bumped into a pal at the weekend who gave me some advice.

She’s been on around TWELVE Tinder dates in the last month or so, and has just found a nice guy.

“It’s a numbers game,” she said. “Go on as many dates as you can!”

So I’ve decided I’m going to go for it. Because something just might add up ...

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