Unless you’re a purist who believes that a relationship could blossom from some romanticized and wholesome interaction, you have a Tinder. And even if you are one of those purists, odds are you that you have had a Tinder at one point or another, because it’s such a big part of college culture. According to The New York Times, more than half of college students actively use Tinder, and guess what? I’m one of them. Around 29 percent of college Tinder users use Tinder not as a dating app, but as a way to to make new friends, according to a LendEDU survey, and, surprisingly, I also am a part of this group.
This is the story of my most fruitful interaction on Tinder.
Last Friday, a man on Tinder showed me his mushrooms. Allow me to give the situation some context.
I was scrolling through Tinder, as one does, until I come across a bio that reads: “I’m growing mushrooms in my room; they’re doubling in size each day. Ask to see the mushrooms (not an innuendo). I’m really growing mushrooms.”
Naturally, I’m interested. I swipe right and await a match in hopes of seeing this man’s mushrooms. I should preface that I did not have an initial intention of pursuing anything further with this man (whose identity I will keep anonymous). I was genuinely just curious to see if someone was able to successfully grow mushrooms in a residential space.
The match comes, and I pounce into his DMs: “Can I see the mushrooms?”
This is the most forward I have ever been on Tinder, skipping the hello-how-are-you phase and going in for the kill, just as an average Tinder predator would.
He responds immediately.
“Yeah what’s your number?”
This has to be the quickest number exchange in all of Tinder history, and it is bringing me one step closer to my goal.
With an ethereal glow, my phone lights up, revealing his texts; he has sent me pictures of his mushrooms, and they are glorious.
He supplies me with two reference pictures: the first shows what the mushrooms were like on Friday, and the second showed what they had grown to be like the day he texted me, which was the following Wednesday.
Let me be the first to say that these mushrooms were impeccably impressive. He is no false advertiser, because they truly did seem to be doubling in size each day, and they really were growing in his room. In fact, they appeared to be coming out of a wall.
I admit: I am no mycologist. However, my Tinder gentleman may very well be.
When I asked him how he got into the mushroom growing business, he replied, saying that mycology has been interesting to him for a while, and that he plans on harvesting the mushrooms soon.
For everyone’s knowledge, mycology is the scientific study of fungi.
I had to know what he was harvesting them for.
“I’m going to make mushroom gravy,” he said.
An oddly specific response. When I inquired as to why he is choosing mushroom gravy, of all things, he explained that he had just gotten jaw surgery and can only eat mashed potatoes. The mushroom gravy will add flavor to his post-surgery meals.
One may wonder why he doesn’t turn to regular gravy to dress up his taters, and the answer is because gravy contains lard, which is made from animal fat.
Our gentleman of interest is a vegetarian; what a multidimensional fellow.
Here I thought some guy was growing psychedelic shrooms in his room (which arguably would have been more impressive), but it was just a vegetarian mycologist with a dream.
Even though he extended an invite to me for beer and a movie, I have yet to hear from him since that wondrous day. I do believe I will never have an encounter as wholesome as this one was; perhaps nobody ever will.
Thank you, Tinder, for showing us all the goodness we doubted to see from you.