I Crashed My Car Upon Learning That Grindr Had Crashed And Now I Am Dead

I keep hearing about how people at the Olympics and people at Fire Island and people in places where there are just too many people are suffering because they can’t have sex because Grindr has crashed, but once when I was trying to use Grindr I actually crashed my car into a tree and I died.

All I wanted to do was drive my car over to this guy’s house who I met on Grindr so I could fuck him (I’m a top), but when my Grindr app wouldn’t load on my phone, I became distracted and drove head first at 85 miles per hour into a tree. I was killed instantly upon impact, and I blame Grindr.

If only Grindr hadn’t crashed while I was trying to check my messages to find my hook-up’s address and to remind myself of his stats (I think he said he was 5’10” with a swimmer’s build), I wouldn’t have crossed the center median, jumped a curb, slammed into a giant oak tree, and had my entire body ejected through my car windshield. Doesn’t Grindr have a technical support team in place when one of its servers go down? If they did, I’d still be alive today.

Many people blame Grindr for turning gay men into sexual prima donnas and dividing us into antisocial cliques and subcultures (bears, leather daddies, twinks, muscle queens) based on outdated stereotypes which have in turn led to a lack of community and the decline of gay sex culture found in bars, locker rooms, truck stops, and other popular cruising areas, and it’s true. The act of spontaneously having sex with another man whom you have never seen before in a dark alley or the woods has been killed because of Grindr’s pre-planned, pre-selected, and pre-screened hook-ups, just as I was killed when I spontaneously lost control of my car because of Grindr’s service interruption distracting me from the fact that I was driving on the wrong side of the road.

People are often quick to point out that, thanks to Grindr, it is nearly impossible to meet a single, attractive, smart, and honest gay man, and they’re right. After all, what’s more impossible than trying to meet a single, attractive, smart, and honest gay man when he is dead, thanks to Grindr? And who even knows how long it took for my hook-up to realize that I had been killed while en route to his house, or if he ever found out at all! For all he knows I stood him up, and that’s just the worst. I remember being stood up by a Grindr trick before and how I nearly died of embarrassment, which is almost as bad as how I actually died of massive blunt force trauma to the head when my skull hit the pavement after I was thrown 14 feet from my car.

My dying wish would be for my hook-up to know that I died, but I don’t think the last message I sent to him even went through, which I was trying to type on Grindr just as my car started to careen wildly out of control (it read, “8 incccc1!@2jgt8ydrft#r”). Ugh, Grindr ruins everything.