tinderdoneforyou
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How to outsource your love life
It's 5PM on a Friday. I pour myself a glass of three-day-old white wine and wait for my wing woman to call. Her name is Ally. She has a soothing voice and a gentle demeanor. She lives in Temecula, California, somewhere between Los Angeles and the hyper-conservative, bleach-blonde beaches of San Diego. Over the course of our near-two-hour phone call she will grill me on everything from my favorite dishes to dating deal-breakers, from the time I was held at gunpoint in Mexico to my affinity for gin martinis.
