Amatuer Gay | Blog

Me: “I’m a freelance graphic designer.”

What’s your worst “straight app” experience? Drop it in the comments. Let’s suffer together. This post is part of the “Amateur Hour” series. I have no credentials, no editor, and no idea what I’m doing. But I’m doing it anyway.

So I Tried a “Straight” Dating App Again (For Science. Bad Science.)

Then came the guy. Let’s call him Brad. Brad’s profile had six photos. Five were of his truck. One was of his dog. His bio: “Conservative. God first. Just seeing what’s out there.” amatuer gay blog

I set my profile. Photo of me at the beach (angles matter). Bio: “Likes long walks to the fridge and queer horror movies. He/him.”

The moral of this amateur experiment is simple: The grass isn’t greener on the straight apps. The grass is just… different. Sometimes it’s astroturf. Sometimes it’s actually just painted concrete.

Last Tuesday, at 11:47 PM, fueled by two glasses of cheap rosé and a deep, spiritual boredom, I did something stupid. I re-downloaded a “mainstream” dating app. You know, the one with the orange and white logo. The one where 90% of the profiles are either: a) A guy holding a fish. b) A guy whose bio just says “Fluent in sarcasm.” c) A guy who is “just looking for a gym bro.” Me: “I’m a freelance graphic designer

Did I find love? No. Did I find a decent bagel place recommendation? Also no. Did I get a story to share with you guys? Absolutely.

Him: “Cool. Do you want to come over tonight and watch me play Call of Duty? My roommate is gone.”

For context, I’ve been out for about four years. I have a Grindr horror story that involves a unicycle (don’t ask), and a Scruff success story that ended after three dates because he didn’t like The Golden Girls (dealbreaker). So why did I go back to the dark side? This post is part of the “Amateur Hour” series

Then he asked: “So, what do you do for work?”

Because sometimes, being a gay man in your twenties feels like you’ve already met every single queer person within a 50-mile radius. You want the illusion of variety. You want to believe there’s a world where you don’t have to ask “Top or bottom?” before “What’s your name?”

So hey—if that’s you? Send the message.

Within three minutes, I got a match. A woman. "Hey! Love your smile! Do you go to Hillsong Church?" I politely replied that I am, in fact, a gay man, and she unmatched faster than I can say "internalized homophobia."

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