Whitney Wolfe Would Like To Defeat Tinder at Unique Games
O n a warm will day in NYC, Whitney Wolfe smoothes her hair (fantastic) takes a drink of the lady iced java (black) and factors over the leafy terrace at a good-looking chap resting with a pal. “You swiped in your mind at the moment,” she claims. “So performed I.” Wouldn’t it be good, she goes on, if there had been a bubble over his head listing his task with his studies? Wouldn’t it be nice in the event that you could simply get-up and state ‘Hi?’ And wouldn’t it be great if there was not a way he’d imagine you had been hopeless or unusual any time you performed?