Did you think Tinder was a jungle? Welcome to Sodom and Gomorrah!🍷
- Mar 15
- 2 min read
At the age of 60-plus, in addition to a painting class and a retreat on the big questions, I embarked on a delusional anthropological journey in "Tinderland" - the land of unlimited possibilities and impossible men.
This is a travelogue from Tinderland. No filters, no Botox for reality.
My name is Yael and I live in a movie.
Unfortunately, this is not a Disney movie. The prince on the white horse is stuck in traffic on the Ayalon highway, and the horse is probably dead. What remains is a combination of a low-budget disaster movie and a black comedy about survival in the third age.
I thought I'd find love there, or at least intelligent conversation. In reality? Welcome to Sodom and Gomorrah, the Tinderland version.
Take a look at my "dream" (or nightmare) team:
🧊 The "solids": those that prove themselves to be as stable as a rock, but behave like a flammable liquid next to a match.
✈️ People of the big world: fly to Italy every week in business class, but on a date they'll invite you for a ride on a public bench (the water from the fountain - on them!).
🤒 The romantic hypochondriacs: Those who are sure that a virus, a nagging cough, and pictures of a thermometer are an excellent basis for teasing.
🔪 And for dessert - a closed class of my own: the narcissists, the psychopaths, and those who think that "L"T is a legitimate word.
I started this blog to document the circus. Not to whine (well, maybe a little), but mostly to laugh. It's going to be a moving, funny, and sometimes a little painful journey. But hey, at least it's not boring for me.
So what awaits you here? Every now and then, when I feel like it, I will post a new chapter from my travel diary here.
* Legal disclaimer: Any connection to reality is strictly coincidental, unless you identified yourself - in which case, you still owe me for that coffee. And sorry, but you earned it honestly.
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