What happened when I joined Happn: Alison Taylor on relationships
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.I thought there would be fanfare. Or at least a welcoming party when I joined. After all, the journey had been a long one, with not a few kinks in the road and, frankly, loads of time-wasting.
To recap, I met with the sexy French guy who co-founded the dating app, Happn – the one that essentially stalks your potential date and tells you when they are within grabbing-distance. He convinced me to join by telling me all the reasons why the app is so great. It is, he said, pretty much like real life, in that you 'cross paths' with possible suitors and ergo, probably have something in common with them. Having recently signed up to both Amazon Prime and Netflix while already having a pretty souped-up Sky package, I had another reasons for needing to get out of the house. My new TV is pretty and smart, after all – but it doesn't hug back.
The main thing blocking the road to my milk-and-honey life of dates had been my lack of a Facebook profile, sexy French guy explained – being a member is a necessary evil in order to get the app. Zuckerberg will always get you in the end, you have to remember that. Not wanting to get my hands dirty, I convinced a younger colleague of mine to do the admin necessary to become part of the world's most lucrative cult. We agreed I would have a private profile with various boxes ticked – or not ticked – to ensure that nobody will ever find me on there. We grab a suitably attractive photo, tick, tick again, and hey presto, I'm now getting emails every day suggesting I might make friends with Jay from Brighton and a thousand other random personages.
My patience is already thin and I haven't even got the app yet.
A few days later, my friend and I are sat in the pub, two wines in, excitedly preparing to download the keys to my future happiness. Facebook is sorted, I am on my way. "You just need to get started!" says my supportive and gleeful helper-friend. After embarrassing myself by taking way too long to find the app store in my phone, I am back on track. I can hear the distant sound of drums getting closer. A marching band, perhaps? The welcoming party?
'Not Enough Memory to Download this app.'
I did not sign up for this.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments