Nathan Apfel

Is Love dead? Is Romance? What about Animalistic Sexual Passion? I dare say yes! 

I’m talking, of course, about our cultural demise at the hand of dating apps. Picture this. You match with someone on your dating app du jour after hours of mindless swiping, casually determining if other singles are physically worthy of your lust. You slide into a few chats and decide you want to meet for a sneaky link, that offer local nudes online.

Now picture this. You’re at Toad’s Place, home of Love, Romance and Animalistic Sexual Passion. You meet someone you find cute. You’re yelling small talk at each other over the deafening roar of “I’ve Got a Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas. Your arms graze, perhaps you break out a cute little pickup line, and lean in for a magical kiss.

Which do you prefer? 

You might argue that the latter requires a little more effort, a little more courage. You’re right. But is Love not worth our effort? Can we not muster up that slight burst of courage? Have we really been reduced to nothing but fleshy, hormone-driven masses? Believe in Romance, I implore you! 

My disdain for dating apps, I will admit, was not born out of some high-minded morality-based argument. The facts of my physical profile dictate my stance on the matter. Despite what my mom seems to believe, I am not the most handsome young boy on the block. I get the job done with my good old-fashioned wily charm. A couple of pictures of me and a cheap one-liner in my bio aren’t going to woo the ladies. If you need help with dating sites, the is well versed in helping people navigate the online dating websites by offering reviews.

There are things that a dating profile just can’t capture. You won’t hear my infectious giggle. You won’t notice how tall I am. You won’t see my goofy dance moves. You won’t notice how tall I am. You won’t get the full effect of my smile. Again, I want to emphasize that I’m taller than you’d think from pictures. You won’t learn to love my self-deprecating sense of humor. Et cetera, et cetera.

Personality is my salvation, and that’s the main reason why I’m not on dating apps. But that’s not all. There’s something that would feel so deeply wrong about knowing that random people out there are deciding whether or not my looks are good enough for them. Instead, I find comfort in meaningful connections, whether through friends, family, or even professional services like woolwich escorts, where the focus is on genuine interaction rather than superficial judgment.

If you’re going to spurn my affection, do it to my face. I’ll embrace my shame. But the mass judgment from those anonymous connoisseurs of the human form is too much for my poor psyche to handle.

We’re better than this. We need not subject ourselves to the masses. As we approach our Day of Love — Oh, that glorious homage to St. Valentine! — I make this final plea to all the Yale students, parents, faculty, administrators and bored alumni reading this column. 

Give Love a chance! Put some effort into Romance! Trust your Animalistic Sexual Passion! Swap out your couch-sitting sweatpants for your finest wooing attire and get out there. Because every time that one more person has the courage to flirt in-person, there’s hope that one day there will be someone for me.


Forever your comrade in Love,


Andrew Cramer is a former sports editor, women's basketball beat reporter, and WKND personal columnist at the YDN. He still writes for the WKND and Sports sections. He is a junior in Jonathan Edwards College and is majoring in Ethics, Politics & Economics.