Much like the Taco Truck, Tinder is an American institution. A stronghold of our society that caters to every citizen, non-citizen, trashcan, or anyone that has access to a phone. Also like Tinder, you know what you're getting into when you go to a Taco Truck: you're not going to find the best meal of your life, not even the best meal of your week. But what you will find will be good enough and have hair in all the wrong places. It will taste exactly as you expect it to taste, sometimes worse, but never better. And, exactly like Tinder, the Taco Truck leaves you with plenty of regret the following day. Sweet, diarrhea-flavored regret.
People on OkCupid aren't always just there for the hook-up...Ok, yes they are, but they pretend they have class, and may even take you on a date first. AppleBee's is the same way: It'll dress itself up with a fancy menu (profile) featuring some of your favorite classics, like mozzarella sticks (the AppleBee's equivalent of a heated make-out with grinding and over-the-underwear rubbing) and a quality cobb salad (a blowjob with no promise of reciprocation). Unfortunately, the menu promises but never delivers, and you rarely go back for a second date. Some people do find love here, but only because they don't want to go to the Taco Truck anymore.
Just like every P.O.F. user is most comfortable at a gas station, so too is the P.O.F. restaurant: a Gas Station Sushi Bar. Sure, there's plenty of fish...But they're the kind of fish that grew up in tanks of grey water under a warehouse roof, then packaged in duct tape posing as nori and sold at Chevron to those wanting some foodborne illness. Much like anyone you would pick up at a gas station, P.O.F. dates are subpar, at best. You'll either end up filing a restraining order, or suffering a bad relationship for two years and then filing a restraining order. But no matter what you file, there will still be gas station sushi, and it will still be awful.
With the best cuts of meat in town, this steakhouse turns people away at the door if they don't "meat" the requirements. Eating at the trendiest restaurant means you have the words yoga, crossfit, or travel within the first three sentences of your profile, and one of your photos is a professional headshot taken for the website of the company you founded. Much like the exotic side-dishes you've never heard of, a lot of Bumblers have exotic names like Shant and Zoravir. Sure, they sound weird as shit...but beneath all those shirtless photos at resorts in third world countries is just another human looking for love...or, at the very least, looking for an Instagram following.
Match is an overpriced, dressed up dating app that leads you to believe everyone finds their love, and like Olive Garden, it's outfitted specifically for people who are ready to just give up. Nothing says "settling" quite like overpaying for terrible Italian food, served to you by a waiter wearing a tie bought at Hot Topic during her Avril Lavigne phase. Sure, this place looks like a real fairy tale, but between the "once upon a time" and "happily ever after," is a lot of disappointment. Expensive disappointment. But at this point you're so tired of Gas Station Sushi and that weird Gastronomy Pub, that you'll pretty much pay whatever if you'll find someone equally jaded that prefers "good enough" to "true love."
Where else do you find desperate middle-aged divorcees, homeschooled religious shut-ins, and registered sex offenders but EHarmony? Or in this case, the Old Country Buffet. A very sad, depressing gathering with a lot of hope, this buffet brings you crunchy mashed potatoes, green-tinted corn casserole, and pumpkin pie long past its expiration date. Seriously, it was served at the first Thanksgiving, and they still have some left over. But at EHarmony, you overlook a lot of flaws just to find a companion, just like overlooking the cockroach in the bathroom or the snot dripping from that guy's nose into his Jell-O casserole. This buffet's regular tenants may not be right for you, but they're not right for anyone else, either, so might as well, right?
3ndr attracts a very specific type of clientele. They aren't seedy people, they're just all doing a weird thing together (eating from the same plate with their dirty fingers), with no shame. And while it is very close to normal things like tapas or appetizers, you still don't want anyone at work knowing you're on 3ndr, or sharing tiny pancakes with strangers. The people there are overly friendly, and just want to know what you're into--and how far you're willing to go for some weird shit. Like 3ndr, the small plates restaurant is a misunderstood place hidden behind a cloud of judgment. Also like 3ndr, it doesn't have any actual filling meals, so it's not serving what you're looking for, despite being called a restaurant.
Happn promises a new kind of pizza and dating experience, bringing you all the hottest singles you've never met at a low, low cost. Of course, the reason for the low cost is that it is all just frozen pizzas in a fancy box. Much like Happn, Little Ceaser's takes pizzas within your proximity (namely the Tostinos and Tombstones you buy at the corner CVS) and dresses them up in a pretty profile. Like Little Ceaser's, Happn is basically just delivering the singles within 250 meters of you with whom you never want to make eye contact. Also like little Ceaser's, Happn FORCES you to accept these shitty pizzas, and pretend you're excited about it, but you'll need a good 20 beers before that can happn.