Cybersocket Abroad: My Experience of Europe’s Hookup Apps

This may come as a surprise, but by and large I don’t use the hookup apps. Not because of any dislike or judgment for the apps, but because I love “the real world hunt” of it all. Don’t get me wrong, there are tons of toxic and exhausting qualities to the hookup apps, but I really do just love the thrill of the cruise. It’s the extended eye contact on a pass-by with a stranger, and the rush from giving someone my number if they smile at me on the subway. I also know my weaknesses and that I shouldn’t have constant access to sex at my fingertips, so it’s best to keep the apps off my phone. But for the last two and a half weeks, I have been in Europe exploring the Queer life in London and Paris and writing about it for Cybersocket. Unfortunately… all the cues I use to determine if someone is gay in the US can’t really be applied to Europeans, because… well… they’re Europeans; they all look and act a little gay. So “An American in the UK for Work and Fun” (my profile headline) dove back into the apps to see what the cities had to offer by way of Grindr, Scruff, and Sniffies.

The trip started where all long trips start: at the airport. I flew from JFK International Airport to London’s Heathrow, and right away the “Sup? Which gate you at?” texts started. Grindr clearly had the airport demographic, whereas more messages from people near the airport were hitting my Scruff. Sniffies was a bit lighter around JFK, and none at the airport itself. I had just gotten my STI panel back with negatives across the board, and if I’m being honest I didn’t want to get to Europe and 24 hours in run the risk of some symptoms from an airport tryst fucking up the rest of my week. So I ignored the airport offers, hot as the notion may be for me.

CHAPTER 1 - BLOKE 4 BLOKE

A quick aside for those unfamiliar with Sniffies. This is the new hook-up site that’s got everyone talking. Unlike Grindr, Scruff, Jack’d, Recon, etc. Sniffies is web version only. But also unlike the actual apps, Sniffies gives you the real-time locations of those around you in map form, and also has a VERY welcomed sense of immediacy. Because Sniffies is the still the new kid on the block, it has a niche quality that has evolved into people who are, for the most part, legitimately “looking for now.” Because it’s still so new, it doesn’t really have much of a presence in Europe yet. They’re there for sure, but it has probably 7 guys more or less near you compared to the 37 guys within a three block radius on Grindr and Scruff. For this reason, Sniffies essentially fell to the wayside for me in Europe, though I would casually check in on hidden mode.

Back to Grind, as it wr (who needs e’s?). My first night in London, I was in a mood. I had bounced around the bars a bit that night exploring what the city had to offer, and was in a more pensive mood than I was flirty. I also wanted to absorb the nuances of the bars I was visiting since I would be writing about them for Cybersocket (which you can read here). After enough drinks at enough bars, travel exhaustion was kicking in a bit and I started to head back to my hotel in Vauxhall. My “mood” was also starting to kick in a bit, but I didn’t want to NOW have to start engaging with the IRL approach, so this was the perfect moment to jump onto the apps and see what the local flavo(u)rs had to offer.

As I got back to my hotel, a headless torso hit me up who looked muscular in that beefy sort of way, and his headline was “Regular Guy.” I usually roll my eyes a bit at the torsos, and even more so at someone whose profile headline says “Regular Guy” as if that ever means anything other than “light notes of internalized homophobia.” But, I was in a city on another part of the globe, and who am I to judge their customs, ya know? In fact, he was PROBABLY a personal guard to the Queen, and simply couldn’t expose his status in MI6. Not wanting to cause an international event, I engaged with this headless torso, and he was one hungry bottom, which is just what I wanted. He sent me some face pics and he was a cutie for sure. Plus the fair skin and blonde hair, I’m figuring he might be Scottish or Irish, and you KNOW I loves me a Brogue. I just knew I was so excited for my first tryst with a citizen of the United Kingdom. He arrives quickly since he was staying at the hotel next to me, and when he walks in, he says, “Sup, man?” in the most generic of American accents I could fathom. I straight up said, “Wait. Where are you from? Are you American?!” He laughed and immediately realized the root of my surprise and disappointment, and replied with, “Oh yeah, you fucked up. You’re about to have sex with a fellow American.” I laughed and he was even cuter in person, so we went at it and had an absolute blast. Though a great time, after he left I made a resolute decision right then and there to ask anyone else if they were from the UK, and also not to fuck any more Americans. As such it should come as no surprise that I fucked him again the next night. I’M SORRY. THE ASS WAS GOOD. Ugh.

The rest of the gentlemen whose time I enjoyed while I was in London were all people I met out and about, and one old flame, as well. But the last night, I knew I wanted to keep things simple, and I was in a specific mood. The apps are great for quick sex, but they’re also great for when you want something specific—a specific kink, a specific position when you’re normally non-preferentially vers, etc. I found someone on Scruff who was about a ten minute walk from me, which was good by me, particularly because it was a gorgeous night. When I got there, he asked if there was a chance that I had brought “American poppers.” Being a gentleman who was raised on the strictest of Catholic upbringings, I responded, “lol, of course I do.” His excitement was immediate. Apparently, some of the poppers formulas in London are “only headache, and it just kinda punches you in the face.” Good to know! BYOP. London, being a truly international town like NYC, Paris, etc. has many a transplant, and this Venezuelan was one of the sexiest transplants I’ve ever seen. WOOF. This was the perfect way to end my week in London and I’m thankful for Scruff for facilitating it.

CHAPTER 2 - TOMMY IN PARIS

Ahhh Gay Pareeeee and the sexy Parisians who live in it. With their brie-filled baguettes (#GodHatesBags), their beautiful accents, and their pension for all things sensual, French men are without a doubt some of the sexiest men on the planet. I made my way to Paris on the famed Eurostar, the high-speed train that runs 207ft beneath the English Channel connecting France and England. Because it’s still international travel, London’s St. Pancras Station is no different than an airport: lots of security, lots of shops, and lots of horny men on apps looking to see if you’re on the same plane/train as they are. Alas, none of the guys I chatted with were on the same train as I was, though lord knows that would have been a hot experience.

Unlike London where I speak the language perfectly (debatable), I am not 100% fluent in French. Over the pandemic, I finally buckled down and fulfilled a literal life-long dream of teaching myself French, and so I decidedly know enough to comfortably get by in the city and can talk one-on-one with someone no problem if they speak slowly. But once I get into a packed bar with tons of voices and loud music? Nope. I’m definitely not there yet. So I knew I would be relying on the apps a bit more here than in London where I can write out what I want and simply read what I needed to read, free of any ambient noise. Since I certainly am not up with the “phrases de culture sexuelle” I also made sure to google a few key phrases to keep the process smooth.

CYBERSOCKET GUIDE TO FRENCH HOOKUP APP LINGO

• Actif -> Top
• Passif -> Bottom
• BBK -> Bareback
• Pas Pics = Pas Response -> No Pics = No Response
• Dispo (?) -> Available Now (?)
• Mec -> Slang for “guy.”
• Pics Hot? -> X Pics?
• Qui Suce? -> Who is sucking?
• Que tu cherche? -> What are you looking for?
• Recevoir? -> Can you host?
• Je suis chaud -> I’m horny (literally “I’m hot” but understood as ‘I’m horny’ re: apps)

My first day in Paris, like my first in London, was introspective and exploratory. I was wandering and letting my thoughts lead my path. My second day, however, was a bit more driven in the hunt. I headed to Paris’ gayest neighborhood, The Marais, and opened up the apps. Being the viande fraîche (fresh meat) in town naturally lead to a quick influx to sift through, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t overwhelming. Not because there were SO many messages, but because my lack of FULL fluency made me have to stop and really focus on reading what was being sent to me. This did, however, yield a much more focused approach to the apps: I, by and large, deferred to being direct in what I wanted.

As I walked around The Marais, I enjoyed an incredible lunch and sipped a delicious glass of crisp white wine. But now I needed dessert, and je suis très chaud. Another faceless torso messaged me on Grindr, but this one included pics of his big ole bite (“bite” is the word for dick and fun fact: it’s feminine in gender). I asked him for face pics and he obliged. He was sexy for sure, but also decidedly about 20 years my senior; I’m 36. But hey… hot is hot, a bite is a bite, and I’m no ageist! So I headed over to this doctor’s gorgeous apartment, and we had ourselves a very sexy time. He thanked me in French for the quickness with which we made and executed a plan, because he informed me a ton of the guys there are flakes or just keep chatting without make an actionable plan. Good to know that’s not just an American issue!

Also not just an American issue: creepos. There I was standing in the window of the apt. I was staying at in the 17th Arrondisement. I was enjoying my French moment, smoking a cigarette shirtless in the window balcony while drinking my coffee. I was in bliss. I looked down and saw one guy waiting to be let into the apt. across the street, and I saw another guy a few feet away just starting at down at his phone, but I got the feeling he was also peeking from the corner of his eye. He wasn't being cute, though. He was being weird. When I finished my cigarette and coffee I went and got my phone and opened up the apps. Right away, there was a message, that essentially translates to: did you enjoy gulping down your coffee in the window? Yes I was watching you. Also smoking your cigarette." When I told him I couldn't host and wasn't looking right then (not true) he said I should rent a room for the two of us. I blocked him.

I met my next homme on Scruff, and he was a hot 27 year-old bro complete with the backwards hat. It was a Saturday morning after a great Friday evening, and some morning sex was just what I needed. I stared out the London trip blowing out the back of some bro, so I figured I’d flip the script and get mine blown out by a French bro. Here’s the deal: we all love a young top who is over-excited to fuck, and to go to town. But… they also sometimes lack a sense of finesse that they’ll no doubt develop over time. This one had yet to develop that sense of finesse as a top. Things started out great with him fucking me on the bed, and then he wanted to get a little adventurous. He threw the comforter onto the ground and I shifted, too. How hot! But where as you can push someone face-down into a mattress, well… a thin-ass comforter from IKEA doesn’t offer quite the impact absorption that a mattress does. Y’all… when he pushed me down I made basically made direct contact with the floor, and I cracked a rib. It was towards the end, and I wasn’t about to stop, but I knew the sensation immediately. The sex was notably outstanding, and quite frankly the rush of it all masked the minimal pain of the rib. Having cracked a rib a few ribs before playing various sports, I knew that this was a mild one, so I said fuck it and kept letting him fuck it. The things we do for l’amour.

Finally, I had one last rendezvous with a guy who was a quick walk from where I was staying. He was hot, and we fooled around a bunch without actually fucking. It was honestly the perfect way to end an already incredible trip. The next day I would be leaving for London again since my return flight was out of Heathrow to NYC. We made tentative plans to have fun the next morning before I left, but he was having his birthday party later that night after we hooked up and would be hosting 40 people at his place. I wasn’t too optimistic that his hangover would yield the early rising that I was accustomed to (I’m a morning guy). My instinct proved right and by the time he was awake I was already en route to Paris’ Gare Du Nord (their most famous train station and the one from which the Eurostar departs/arrives).

I started this all off by telling you that I don’t normally use the apps and that I only downloaded them for this trip, and that’s true! I had one day/night left as I was leaving Paris, but I would be flying back the next morning with a very early rising of 4am, to make a 5am breakfast, a 5:30am shuttle, and a 7:30am boarding of my flight. But hey… I had one more day/night so I figured I wouldn’t delete the apps just yet. Hey, ya never know who would be staying at the same hotel as me. Or… as luck would end up having it… who would be on the same train out of France as me.

Remember that hot scenario that never came to be when I was traveling from England to France? The “hey which train are you on?” conversations at the Eurostar waiting room? Well… plot twist… it happened, and it was without a doubt, one of the hottest experiences of my life. It ended up combining two things I love: the use of the apps in international parts of the world, and the rush of the real world experience. I won’t get into specifics, because who knows who will read this article, but I'll just say this: my hunger to be in the mile-high club has been slaked by my entrance into the three-foot high club. As I crossed the border from France back into England under 207ft of water, it was a French and an American tunnel that got railed, not just the English Channel.

My ending thoughts are this: Both Grindr and Scruff provided me the ease and availability of what I needed and wanted from my international hookup experiences. With that said, Grindr is clearly the brand name force with which to be reckoned. Like any other staple of the cultural zeitgeist, Grindr's name recognition increases the quality and quantity of what they're offering. Finally, no matter the country, no matter the language, no matter the app... the experiences really are all the same. The apps are great if you know how to use them responsibly, and you shouldn’t take any of it too seriously or too personally. And no matter where on the planet you are, damn do a lot of people lie about the size of their asses and dicks.

Cybersocket: Plug In. Get Off. Questions? Comments? Email us at [email protected].