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My grandma recently asked me how my new girlfriend was, even though I don't have one.

The plan all along was to tell her that it had actually been my mom talking to her, using my Tinder, but I very quickly had a crisis of conscience.

I think you should get to know people."I'm 26 and single. When she was 26, my mom was married to her high school sweetheart, the man who took her to the prom in a goofy Volkswagen Beetle. That baby was my brother, who at 26 had already been with the woman he would marry for six years. She would call me as I was racing back, only to say, “You shouldn’t be talking on the phone while driving! Like most parents, she was on the receiving end of much teenage vitriol and almost none of the deserved gratitude.

But unlike when my mom was 26, there is now, quite literally, an app for this. My mom is 58, has short hair, stands a tiny five-foot-two, and takes no shit. That started to change when I went off to college and, with some perspective, realized I was stupid and she was smart; when I realized that all she cares about is ensuring that her children don’t fuck up too terribly, and that, since “playing N64 at Dan’s house” really means “stealing all of Dan’s dad’s beer,” sometimes it’s okay to say no—even if your moody teen thinks you’re a fascist. '"'s takedown piece about Tinder and today's hook-up culture, in which appears this appalling, almost-too-perfect-to-be-believable quote: "' It's like ordering Seamless,' says Dan, the investment banker, referring to the online food-delivery service.

I’m 26, single, and four years removed from anything resembling a serious relationship.

So I did what any solo twenty-something guy would do: I installed Tinder on my mom’s phone and asked her to find me a date. It's a warm late-summer night in New York's West Village, and I'm on my way to rendezvous with a woman I met on the Internet.

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