Júlia Ponsa explains to ARA that Tinder, the dating app, is on leaveIn fact, for days I've been hearing an ad on the radio for a "marriage agency," Samsara, asking if you're fed up with the kind we talk about, but it does mention the magic word: matchIn the article, the journalist tells us about a film,Materialists, which stars in amatchmaker. That is, what in Castilian and, by extension, Catalan, is called, thanks to the novel, a matchmaker. The one who charges for making suitable couples. Today, the title of the work we have all studied in class is no longer The Celestina, but The MatchmakerThe subtitle, of course, should not be either. Tragicomedy of Calisto and Melibea, because the tragicomedy, today, it is not worn. Today it is worn dramedy.
When you explain to young people that the tribal elders' method of making friends was to ask, "Are you studying or working?" they make eyes the size of oranges. I mean, like mangoes. This question, which is actually a very pertinent question, seems "geeky" to them. None of them would "entertain" another person by talking. "We'll ask for Instagram," they say (they actually say "Insta"). "And don't you buy a drink?" I ask. "If a guy buys you a drink, you don't drink it and you call security," they reply.
On a date that comes out of Tinder, there's first the comparison between the photo and reality, which, from what they tell me, is always disappointing. And then, the questions: "I don't want to waste time. Do you want to have children?" How difficult, I suppose, having to answer so bluntly.
Sometimes these young men let me see their Instagram posts. "But don't touch anything!" they warn me. Because it seems that if "women liketo someone without meaning to, that someone already imagines that there is a tomato.
