Luxy, The Dating App For Giant Rich Douches

I'm a simple man with a simple life. I am, by no means, wealthy—and I believe that's an attribute which gives me character. I enjoy regular-people activities like reading books, taking the subway, and eating Taco Bell a few times a day. I've never steered a yacht, hunted big game, or referred to anyone as "the help."

Truth be told, I'm a bit wary of the rich, which could explain why weird things happen to me when I go to places like The Hamptons. So when I heard about this new dating app called Luxy, the "tinder for wealthy people," I knew I had to check out the pomposity from a normal person point-of-view.

First, you choose your favorite hobbies to show off to your meek competition. You've got your cornucopia of activities that balding men in white cashmere sweaters absolutely c*m their pants over: Racquetball, golf, horseback riding, animal fancy—wait, animal fancy? What the actual hell? That's probably billionaire slang for hunting. 

Your second step is picking out luxury brands that you cannot live without. There are plenty of reputable brands on this list: Rolex, Coach, Cadillac, Hilton, etc. But, of course, there's a certain connotation with the types of people who can easily and readily buy a Ferrari at the drop of a hat. 

They're either people who've worked hard their entire lives and saved every penny since birth, or, 20-year-old men who live of their parents' wealth and look exactly like Donald Trump's son. Have you ever seen a face more deserving of a swift backhand? 

Finally, you choose your income. I chose $1 million, because I was depressed that my salary didn't even come close to the lowest possible denomination offered, so I figured I'd fudge the numbers a teensy bit. 

Naturally, people are keen on riling up the masses through the art of trolling. Is Luxy one giant prank for the 99 percent to fume over and blog about? A report from CNN, in which the CEO of Luxy (who is only identified as "Tim T."; oh my God, Tim Taylor?!?) describes his app in the douchiest way possible, leads this reporter to think there's something fishy going on here.

"With the rise of high-speed digital dating," Tim T. said in a statement. "It's about time somebody introduced a filter to weed out low-income prospects by neighborhood."

The CEO of Luxy might be the worst person on the planet. Plus, the app is buggy, crashes often, and there's a curious lack of matches, despite my liberal age settings of 18 to 60. Also, like, do you have to submit financial records? How does it verify how much money you have? Can people spot my blue collar from the tiny little screen of their phone?

So many questions, so few answers. Bye.

Jeremy Glass is the Vice editor for Supercompressor and has a real-life girlfriend. Seriously.