Is Grindr the gay selective service?  At 18, or perhaps 21, is it required of any gay man to create a Grindr profile and then serve his community when called by Grindr to “meet up” with an interested user?

                  Increasingly, this seems to be the case. 

       Grindr has an interesting cast.  You never know who -- or what -- will pop up on Grindr.  So, despite the physical recommendations, Grindr is a collection of many different gay men.  The phenomenon has caught on and everyone wants to see if they can get a piece.  Grindr has become the new norm in the gay hook up scene.  If you can’t go the club and get someone in a bed, hop on Grindr – everyone else not at the club is looking on there too.

                  Here is my own Grindr story: I had heard of this magical smart phone app for some time – an app so awesome that while waiting for the always late cable man to install your HD-DVR upgrade, you can log on, find some horny guy in the vicinity and then bang him, thereby making your wait for the cable upgrade much less boring and much more satisfying.

                  “This can’t be for real,” I thought.  Surely, these are only the gay icons – those “masculine”, fit gay guys who are out and about and confident and fuck anything in sight.  Surely, I could not fit into this Grindr world of careless sex swap.  Is that even what Grindr is…?

                  So, curiosity took over, and I created a Grindr account.   I created it merely out of an interest to see what it was all about and completely as a joke.  None of this was serious to me.  I took some cliché picture of myself with a backwards baseball hat and no shirt – you know, right after I finished lounging around the house and watching the game.  This whole scenario to me was hysterical.  Could it get any funnier?

                  Turns out, it could.  I awoke the morning after I created my account to five “chats” from four big, built black dudes and a chubby Asian.  I laughed for a half an hour.  I didn’t respond to any of these guys.

                  The electronic addiction slowly took over.  I would check Grindr here and there, wondering if anyone wanted to grind with me.  I mean, hey, it’s an ego boost: total strangers are basing whether or not they want to be naked with you based off of one photograph – and it’s flattering to get requests.  But is that even what was happening?  Was this for real?

                  I began to respond to some of the chats – and found that while some men were sort of in and out and not involved at all with their Grindr identity, some took this as serious as a full time job.  Could I have met up and had sex with different guys?  The option certainly seemed to be there.  Did I ever do that?  We’ll get to that…

                  That’s sort of my main question about this whole thing – do people actually have sex via Grindr?  I’ve read the magazine articles and blogs that support this notion, but, in real life, does this actually happen? 

                  I won’t be so narcissistic as to mention whether I’ve ever met up with anyone from Grindr.  Let’s say, from my own personal experience, the late night (or early afternoon) “meet-up” certainly COULD happen.  I’ve had plenty of opportunities, but I think Grindr sort of an extreme sport – you are either in it to win it or you’re playing for no reason. 

                  Like any sport, you have to be fit and in shape to play Grindr.  The more physically appealing you are the more likely you are going to get the random “Hi” or “What’s up, man?”  Everyone on Grindr is looking for a man who is “masculine and fit”.  As someone who is, admittedly, not masculine or in shape (I’m not gross – I just like my doughnuts!) that is the part that can sting the most.  That’s the tackle I take – that’s the pain in this sport.  You can’t be something you’re not.  In some ways, it’s a disservice to our own community – the gay population is supposed to be all about acceptance and freedom; a judge-free zone of tolerance and understanding.  Gay men can be some of the most judgmental people, especially to each other.  When you’re in this population of people who thrive on inclusion, to be ostracized for not meeting up to the standards can be confusing and counter-productive.  It’s a side effect of signing up for Grindr: if you’re going make the play, be prepared to take the hit.

Ultimately, that’s what Grindr really is: some weird, fucked-up mind game gay guys play with each other.  I say this as someone who has checked their Grindr profile two times in the last hour.

I’m playing the game, but I am, by no means, the MVP.  I’m more like second string, showing up for practice, still trying to figure out the strategy and perfecting my plays.