Should I stay or Trivago?
How I swiped left on sensibility and swiped right on making a dating profile for a D-list celebrity
*This column is satire and does not necessarily reflect the views of the writer.*
We’ve all been there.
Looking for the ideal hotel at the best price.
For me, a 23-year-old man, I only use Trivago.
So does Tim Williams, the grey-fox spokesperson for the online hotel monarchy.
I’ve been hooked on the Trivago ads since high school. They’re straightforward and they tell it like it is (who doesn’t love a good skipper boat full of savings?). Apparently, older women are also hooked when this Harrison Ford cosplay star appears in their living room.
So, just as Trivago aggregates the options on hotels in your area, I aggregated all my free time and tossed it into the trash can.
I made a conscious choice and it was crystal clear: I would pretend to be the Trivago guy on Bumble. Why? To find out if older women truly loved the silver-haired, silver-screen star.
Turns out, they do.
During the snooze fest of last Sunday’s Super Bowl, I made the account. Just as the Rams punted for the eighth time of the game, I punted away my data rights and signed up for a Bumble account.
As the app loaded on my phone, I made a pact with myself: I would never respond to any of the women who like “me,” the Trivago guy.
For real, dating is a humbling time period — and it probably gets tough when you get older. My goal wasn’t to lie or hurt any woman on the site, especially if they wanted the Trivago guy to find their lost slipper. The only endpoint I wanted to see was just how much women liked saving money on their next vacation. I never wanted to break hearts.
The second pact I made: I’d reveal I was not the Trivago guy through my Bumble dating profile. On the profile, littered with hot professional shots of the 50-plus-year-old living space salesman, Bumble asked me a simple question: “what are my two truths and one lie?”
My answer: “I am a man, I like women and I’m the Trivago Guy.”
Boom, I wound back my guilty conscience and drained it from beyond the arc. Now, I could get my swipe on. Unfortunately, I received way more than I bargained for.
Within the first hour, my Trivago guy profile got 48 matches.
Some women caught on, others smiled at the Trivago guy’s stern-faced, masculine profile photo.
Most, however, did not.
“Are you really in Buffalo,” one woman asked, “I’ve seen those commercials but would expect you to be jetting between L.A. and N.Y.C. and all those fancy places.”
“Please tell me you’re the real Trivago guy,” another enthusiastic woman asked.
As I fell asleep after the first night of Trivago-based research and looked at the stars, I could feel the jig was up.
Still, I pressed on.
My messages were jam packed with service requests. One woman, let’s call her Veronica, was very straight forward.
“I’m staying at the Red Roof Inn on Maple, room 210. Need new Seattle’s Best decaf cups. Help.”
Not only was I dealing with a possible public relations crisis for Tim Williams, but now I was dealing with women who had terrible tastes in coffee brands.
“You must be at McKinley Mall, thought I saw you at the Planet Smoothie earlier, you silver hunk,” another woman said.
I could tell this woman was lying, because no one goes to McKinley Mall.
“Hey, where can I get a four-star hotel near the university of Buffalo,” ‘Jane’ from Clarence asked.
You can’t. Also, it’s “University at Buffalo” now, this isn’t 1962.
This was the last straw.
I was ready to call it quits but when I checked my phone Wednesday night, the account was gone.
Bumble, a.k.a. the State TV of dating apps, decided to give into to Trivago erasure.
I was banned, the fun was over and now I can never swipe right on older women again.
Perhaps it was a good thing, but I see this as a downer for any golden girl looking to get a TV man to put a ring on it.
My life started to spiral out of control. I didn’t know what to do next.
I jumped on my phone and logged into Trivago.
It was time to find an ideal hotel at the best price.