Why Modern Dating Is A Minefield—& How To Swipe Left Without Regret

Between gym selfies, vague bios, and men who “aren’t ready for anything serious,” modern dating can feel like an emotional endurance test. In Swipe Left, humorist Nancy Lee Gulbrandsen turns real-life dating disasters into sharp insights—arming women with the tools to decode men’s profiles, dodge red flags, and reclaim their time, energy, and sanity. We sat down with Nancy to talk about why women keep matching with the same men in different zip codes—and how to stop. —Noa Nichol

Your book introduces us to Boozy Bruce, Flatulent Floyd, and an entire ecosystem of dating wildlife. Which creature from the digital deep still gives you flashbacks?

Honestly? Gaslighting Gus still makes my skin crawl. At least with Boozy Bruce, you know what you’re getting; he shows up drunk and smelling like a distillery. But Gus? He rewrites reality so smoothly you start questioning your own memory. “I never said that.” “You’re being too sensitive.” “That’s not what happened.” He’s like a psychological haunted house. By the time you escape, you need therapy and possibly an exorcism.

In your experience, what is the single biggest red flag women continue to forgive—despite knowing it would make a great chapter title?

Boomerang-Bread-Crumbing Brad. This man is a master of the slow drip, just enough attention to keep you on the hook, but never enough to actually go anywhere. A “good morning, beautiful” text here, a “thinking of you” there, maybe a late-night “you up?” when he’s bored. Brad shows just enough interest to keep you engaged while he shops around, keeps his options open, or figures out if his ex is coming back. Women convince themselves that his inconsistency means he’s “busy” or “taking it slow,” when really Brad’s running a full-time side hustle of stringing multiple women along with emotional crumbs. We keep forgiving him because those tiny morsels of attention feel like something, until we realize we’ve been dining on scraps while Brad’s serving full meals to someone else. He’s literally Chapter 11, and yet we keep coming back, as if we’ve never heard of self-respect. Brad doesn’t want you; he wants an audience on standby.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

You say women are “matching with the same men in different zip codes.” Which profile archetype feels the most universal; the guy women from Florida to Vancouver could identify on sight?

Catch-of-the-Day Carl is international. Whether it’s a tarpon in Tampa Bay or a salmon in Vancouver, there he is, proudly holding up a dead fish like he’s auditioning for National Geographic. Carl genuinely believes this screams “provider” when really it screams “I have no idea how to present myself to women.” The fish is dead, Carl. Your dating prospects are, too. Women everywhere see that profile and wonder if Carl thinks we’re going to be impressed by his ability to outsmart an animal with a brain the size of a pea.

If you could add a mandatory warning label to dating apps, what would it say?

WARNING: Contents under pressure. May include Ghosting Gary, Faux Romeo, Gym Rat Jake, and an alarming number of profiles featuring dead fish and wildlife. Side effects include wasted evenings, questionable life choices, and the sudden urge to become a nun. Swipe responsibly. Keep away from Toxic Tom and Alpha Al. If Velcro Vic attaches himself to you, seek immediate help. Not responsible for emotional damage caused by Passive-Aggressive Patrick.

Your book breaks down 100+ profile types. Which one still makes you laugh every time you describe him, and which one deserves to be permanently banned from the internet?

Makes me laugh every time: Flatulent Floyd. The sheer audacity of a man who thinks crop-dusting is socially acceptable never gets old. Floyd has weaponized his digestive system and somehow expects women to find this charming. The confidence-to-self-awareness ratio is astonishing. I’m genuinely unable to read his profile aloud without collapsing in laughter; there’s something about a man who’s turned flatulence into a personality trait that breaks me every single time. Floyd doesn’t just pass gas; he’s made it his brand. The man needs a warning label, not a dating profile.

Deserves permanent internet banishment: Dick-Pic Rick. This walking felony thinks unsolicited anatomy photos are an acceptable conversation starter. Rick doesn’t understand consent, boundaries, or basic human decency, and frankly, some images can never be unseen. Therapy is expensive, Rick, and you’re one of the reasons women need it. This man shouldn’t just be banned from dating apps; he should be prohibited from owning a camera phone.

Modern dating is basically anthropology with emojis. What cultural clues do women overlook the most when decoding a man’s profile?

Women overlook the absence of substance.

Picture-Perfect Perry – Perry’s never met a profile he’s actually read, but he’s an expert in judging photo angles. If his “About Me” section is emptier than his conversational skills, you’re looking at a relationship as deep as a profile thumbnail.

Grammatically Grating Greg – If he can’t string together a coherent sentence in his profile, don’t expect him to articulate his feelings later. Greg’s profile reads like autocorrect had a stroke.

Boring Bob – If his profile makes paint-drying seem exciting, imagine the conversation on an actual date.

Still-Figuring-It-Out Stan – If a grown man still doesn’t know what he wants in life, he definitely doesn’t know what he wants in a relationship.

Catfish Calvin – His photos are from 2015, and descriptions don’t match reality. Calvin’s entire profile is substance-free fiction.

Apron-Strings Andy – If he’s with his mom in every photo, she’s not going anywhere, and neither is he, except back to her house for Sunday dinner.

Many women feel pressured to “be nice” even when their instincts scream otherwise. What’s your go-to line for exiting a date that’s circling the drain?

I’ve wasted way too much time “being nice” on dates that were an utter waste of my time and energy, where I just wanted to evaporate. The “I have an early morning commitment”, “I have a family emergency”, or “My dog has separation anxiety” are certainly options when dealing with Boring Bob (who’s been detailing his spreadsheet hobby for an hour), Halitosis Hal (whose breath has permanently killed your appetite), Foot-Fetish Felix (who keeps staring at your sandals like they’re a Monet), or Flirtatious Flynn (who’s been hitting on the waitress while you’re sitting right there).

My personal favorite is simple and impossible to argue with: “I appreciate you meeting me, but I’m not feeling a connection.” It’s honest and direct, leaving no room for negotiation. The key is to be polite yet firm. You don’t owe Velcro Vic your evening just because he bought you a drink, especially when he’s already planning your honeymoon. Your time is valuable; don’t waste it being nice to someone who’s wasting it.

If you had to diagnose today’s dating culture, what would the condition be—and what’s the prescription besides a glass of wine and your book?

Diagnosis: Chronic Optimism Disorder complicated by Algorithm-Induced Delusion and a severe case of Ghosting Gary fatigue. Patients believe the next swipe will be different despite overwhelming evidence that Boomerang-Bread-Crumbing Brad is just Ghosting Gary with a second act.

Prescription: Three chapters of Swipe Left nightly, a strong dose of boundaries, and the revolutionary concept that being alone beats being with Toxic Tom or Narcissistic Cyclone Alden. Also: therapy, standards high enough to filter out Deadbeat-Dad Dean, and a support group that will tell you when you’re ignoring red flags the size of Alpha Al’s ego.

Your rogues’ gallery includes some truly cinematic disasters. If Swipe Left were adapted for Netflix, which archetype would absolutely steal the show?

Without a doubt, All-About-Me Alden (The Narcissistic Cyclone). His four-act play: Lovebombing, Devaluing, Discarding, Hoovering, would be Emmy gold.

He starts as the romantic hero: flowers, compliments, romantic dates, planning the future by date two, and women are SWOONING. Alden is declaring his love, making her the center of his universe, and doing everything right. Her friends want to know if he has a brother. Her mom is asking about wedding dates. She’s finally found the one.

Then comes Act Two: the subtle put-downs, the gaslighting, the “you’re too sensitive” dismissals. The cheating she was told she imagined. The flying monkeys, his loyal supporters, who defend his every move while making her feel like the crazy one.

By Act Three, he’s discarded her for someone new, and she’s left wondering what happened to Prince Charming. Was any of it real? It wasn’t.

But wait, Act Four! Just when she’s finally healing, Alden resurfaces with an “I’ve changed” text at 2 AM, hoovering her back into his orbit like emotional quicksand.

The finale? She finally sees him for who he is, blocks his number, and walks away while Alden finds his next leading lady (who was already waiting in the wings).

Roll credits. Viewers would binge it in one sitting and immediately text their friends: “This is my ex.”

And, FYI, this IS my ex.

You say the book isn’t about finding “the one”—it’s about not wasting time on the wrong ones. What’s the quickest, funniest, or most foolproof test to tell if a man should be swiped left into oblivion?

It depends on where you are in the process.

On his profile: If he’s posing with a dead fish or creature (Catch-of-the-Day Carl or Buckshot Brock), flexing shirtless (Gym Rat Jake or Commode-Cam Charlie), or describing himself as “Not Like Other Men” (Nice Guy Nick), who is most definitely just like other men, swipe left before your thumb cramps up.

In messaging: If his opening line is just ‘Hey, beautiful’ with zero effort (Flirtatious Flynn or Minimum Effort Mike), that’s lazy. If it’s followed by unsolicited anatomy (Dick-Pic Rick), that’s not a red flag; that’s a criminal offense. Block, report, and cleanse your phone with sage.”

On a date: The “How does he treat service staff?” test is foolproof. If he’s rude to the waitress, you’re looking at Chauvinist Charlie in training. And here’s my personal favorite: mention a boundary. If he respects it, you might have found Consent Conner or Respectful Ryan. If he argues, negotiates, or plays the victim? You’ve got Alpha Al on your hands. Get out, block the number, and don’t look back.