Romance and a ready meal? Why the Spanish are right to look for love in the supermarket

As a Spanish supermarket introduces a ‘fruity’ shopping-trolley code for Gen Z singletons keen to hook up in the aisles, Ryan Coogan asks: could it ever work in Britain?

The world has become so bland, online and sexless, it’s good to know that some people out there are making an effort (PA Wire)

It’s honestly amazing that any of us ever manage to successfully fall in love. Romance is a minefield, and we’re all doomed minesweeping robots, destined to explode on contact the second we come across something viable.

I haven’t dated for a long time, and if I had to start now I don’t have a clue how I would start. I thought the best way to meet people was to, you know, actually meet them – in school, in work, at bars – and then gradually allowing things to progress organically from there.

Apparently, that isn’t the case anymore, though. These days, the optimal method for getting dates is to detachedly swipe left and right on an app after superficially assessing the glassy-eyed selfies of local strangers for a maximum of five seconds apiece, like some kind of horny passport recognition software. Maybe I’m missing something, but it sounds like the plot of a dystopian Mills & Boon.

However, it seems that our friends on the continent have figured out a way to bring a little humanity back to the dating scene, as lovelorn Spaniards have devised a genius method for finding romance… down at the local supermarket.

The trend, nicknamed “Tinder-dona” and popularised by Spanish TV personality Vivy Lin, sees shoppers arrange key items in their trolleys that convey their romantic intentions.

An upside-down pineapple indicates that you’re open to be approached, chocolate and sweets suggest a quick fling, while vegetables mean you’re down for something more serious. What if you’re actually just in the market for some broccoli, I hear you ask? Bad news, buddy – you’re married now.

Look, I’m not going to pretend it’s a perfect system, but it sounds a lot better than the dreaded “apps”. People are less likely to flash you in the dairy aisle, for a start, and it’s more difficult to bombard you with aubergine emojis when they have to physically go and find an aubergine first.

I’m not entirely sure if it would work over here in the UK, though. I can’t imagine Tesco is a particularly appealing place to find a boyfriend – post-Brexit, it’s barely an appealing place to find groceries.

Besides, I’m not sure the English will have the easiest time with all that symbolism. We’re a much more straightforward people than the Spanish, and our system of codes and signifiers is likely to be a lot less complex. Pot Noodle and a ready meal? “Looking for something low commitment.” A bottle of Whispering Angel and a Michael Bublé CD? “Running out of time – ready to settle.” I will not tell you what a packet of Chocolate Fingers means.

Maybe Waitrose is a better option – although when I think of Waitrose I tend to think more LinkedIn than Tinder. Maybe you can impress potential mates by loading up on quail eggs and pretending you know what they’re used for in cooking. Tiny Halloween pranks? Unsatisfying omelettes? We may never know.

Supermarkets aren’t the only place people have started looking for love. Earlier this year Tinder partnered with running app Runna to create “Solemates” which, despite sounding like a support group for foot fetishists, is a way for running enthusiasts to find love while also engaging in their baffling, exhausting hobby. Personally, the idea of sweating, gasping for air and feeling like I’m on the precipice of death doesn’t sound like a great idea for a first date, although to be fair I suppose it does give them an idea of what they’re in for if things go well.

In any case, I’m in favour of something to replace the dead-eyed, procedural chore that modern dating has become. The world has become so bland, online and sexless, it’s good to know that some people out there are making an effort to go out into meat-space and actually make a connection that doesn’t require a wi-fi password.

Though don’t be too eager to head down to Sainsbury’s and find the love of your life just yet. This idea hasn’t taken off in the UK – so for now, if you see somebody with an upturned aubergine in their basket, chances are they’re just looking for more fibre in their diet. Hopefully it takes off soon, though – it might not be perfect, but bumping trolleys is more fun than the self-service tills.