Plenty of dating sites have cropped up in recent years that cater to niche audiences. Look no further than Farmers Only, Amish Dating, or Clown Passions to find evidence of this. But one group has been overlooked for far too long, and a new dating app, Rightly, is here to make this, well, right. The app’s target audience? Straight singles.
“While the LGBT community often faces social stigmas in real life, there are more and more dating apps aimed specifically to cater to them,” said Arianna, a PR representative from Rightly, in a real email that was not sent on April Fool’s Day. “Many LGBT [sites] already have tens of millions of members already. While this is great, straight people have been ignored and most of them do not want to meet LGBT people in a general dating app.”
“They sent this email to exactly the ‘Rightly’ person,” said Anna Pulley, the obviously non-straight author of The Lesbian Sex Haiku Book (with Cats!), who received the PR pitch from Rightly. “I am extremely concerned about the dating discrimination of straight people. In fact, I wanted to call my book The Hetero Sex Haiku Book (with Cats!) but the marketing department at Flatiron Publishing told me that there just wasn’t a big enough audience.”
Upon hearing about the new app for straight singles, Kevin, an exasperated straight man, told SF Weekly, “Finally!” (We’re assuming his name was Kevin anyway. All straight people seem like Kevins to us.) “I can’t tell you how awful it is that I can literally go anywhere at anytime to potentially meet other straight people to date,” he said, whilst sipping a whey protein shake with no straw, manfully. “I need this app so much.”
“I’m so excited about this,” agreed Bethany-Jessica, a straight woman who can’t for the life of her find a straight man to engage in straight activities that she enjoys, such as eating brown rice, procuring one gay friend for politically correct dinner parties, and shopping for Gore-Tex. When SF Weekly pointed out to her that shopping for outdoor performance wear was pretty lesbian actually, she threw her hands up in exasperation. “See what I mean? Nothing is sacred!”
“We straights have long been victims of technoppression,” chimed Jeremi, a straight, male insurance adjuster who is constantly having his sexuality questioned because of the “i” in his name. “Do you know how many times I have swiped right on a hot girl only to find out she was a lesbian?”
“Zero times?” SFW guessed, because sexual orientation is pretty easy to specify on dating apps.
“Yes!” said Jeremi, who then admitted his Tinder profile was set up by a tech-savvy millennial named Vissarion, who is pansexual, genderqueer, and getting laid like crazy. Vissarion looked up from his smartphone briefly during the interview with Jeremi, between receiving ubiquitous blow jobs from a parade of enthusiastic non-binary people, just long enough to moan-quip, “I feel really bad for straights. Sure, queers face systemic harassment, discrimination, higher rates of homelessness, cancer, mental illness, threats, violence, hate crimes, substance abuse, and can still be fired for being gay in, like, 29 states — but at least we have Grindr.”
A representative from a lesbian dating app, Munchr, confirmed that it indeed had “tens of millions of members,” as Rightly claimed. This is despite the latest numbers by demographer Gary J. Gates estimating that there are 10 million total Americans who identify as LGBT. “All 10 million are on our app,” said Munchr’s founder, who told me to call her Howls-At-The-Wo’moon. Wo’moon said the original name for the lesbian app was going to be Plenty of Fish, until she found out it was already taken. Undeterred, she pressed on with the app, unsure of how queer women would respond.
“Turns out all those right-wing commentators were right,” she said, sharpening her diamond-studded nail into a shiv to dismember the patriarchy. “As soon as same-sex marriage was legalized, millions of Americans turned spontaneously gay. It’s been great for business.”
“You know,” said Pulley, who never tires of crusading for the rights and dignity of straight people, nor of quoting herself in her own articles, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Rightly sent this offensive email to me because I’m a queer person, in order to incite my ire for marketing purposes.”
“If that’s the case,” she winked, before climbing into a Subaru with Bethany-Jessica and driving off into the sunset to the nearest REI, “then perhaps it’s true what they say: Two wrongs can make a Rightly.”