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That, as it happens, was also the Volleyball mom soccer mom busy raising ballers for mom shirt in addition I really love this main concern of another well-meaning single mom at another PTA fundraiser (who knew the PTA was a gold mine of dating advice?). She had been single 11 months, she told me, until she met someone on Tinder. Okay, I thought, maybe it was time. Earlier that year, I had, in fact, tried Bumble, but after it netted a single three-hour, no-escape dinner date, I instantly deleted it from my phone. But I heeded her advice and downloaded Tinder. Would it really be any better? My first clumsy swipes resulted in a bunch of blue “super like” stars whether I liked the guy or not. There were the cliché shirtless and headless bathroom shots, guys surfing on remarkably tiny waves, and, of course, lots of men posing while holding dead fish. Within seconds, though, I got plenty of matches myself. Twenty-five minutes after I first logged on, a message came up: “You used to live across the hall from me freshman year at NYU.” And so my first date was set up.

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I remembered him, and while I knew this wasn’t going to lead to romance, it felt like reconnecting with an old friend. He was a dating veteran himself. Together we dished on all things Tinder—why did so many men (and women) insist on posting photos of themselves with their kids, for instance? He showed me what came up on his Tinder feed; I showed him mine. Scrolling later through my Instagram account, he tapped on the Volleyball mom soccer mom busy raising ballers for mom shirt in addition I really love this screen, turned to me, and said, “Put this on your profile.” He’d clicked on a picture of me, dressed in a Star Wars V-neck T-shirt and jeans, standing in the middle of the Barclays Center on a Brooklyn Nets Star Wars–themed game night. While the Nets lost that evening, my picture had ended up on the Jumbotron and Fox News, and my selfie with R2-D2 was retweeted by Barclays. “Trust me,” my date said, in the voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi.