Enter Into the Wilds of February 13th Tinder

There is a raw energy, here, something feral, February 14th as the drop of blood that makes the sharks stir in the salty water. Normally you just swipe through these faces while idly sat on the toilet at work, or while half-watching Geordie Shore, or as a laugh with your friends in the pub (your reluctance to do this increases in the time since you got a good match: when you first get the app it is Very Fun to let someone else swipe through it, sprinting their fingers over your sideways-oriented phone while the faces flash by like a zoetrope, and then two weeks go by and nobody ever really gets past the “so what do you do lol?” chat, and so now you’re very pointedly aware an algorithm might be in charge of you getting or un-getting your nut, and so you stop handing the phone over to drunk people and start taking it seriously again, and also update your main photo with that one good selfie you took after 60 attempts in that pub bathroom with the good lighting, and when you came back from there you’d been so long everyone teased you for having had some sort of terrible shit, and the truth was far more embarrassing to admit so you just went with it, you came up with a weird lie where you said you’d eaten four bananas that day), and long story short here are your two options, here, as best I can see it: