You are on a dating app and this is how it goes: a man with a face, another man with a face, one with a dog, with his mum, without a shirt. A man playing tennis, holding a child (“My niece!”), out walking, out clubbing, at the pub. He’s 6ft 2in, 5ft 6in, Buddhist, spiritual, liberal, reads books, sells books, wants book recommendations; he’s a banker, a builder, an “account manager”; he’s 27, 40, open to children, in an open relationship and you should only go out with him if that’s OK with you, OK?
It is a disorientating fever dream, a never-ending loop of profiles, filtered only by age and location. It means you are left to invent your own strange rules — based
