It’s hard to swipe right when both hands are holding ice cream cones, no?

I was in the middle of writing my article about whether men should wait until they are financially secured before getting married when I thought, “Wait a minute, what about all the fat dudes? Who cares if you’ve got some cheddar in the bank if you’re a gigantic blob?”

It then also occurred to me how when you get down to it, most people don’t really care about material possessions and money when it comes to attraction. They care if they find you “hot.” They care if they find you physically attractive. This isn’t just men. Women do, too.

Are women at home fantasizing about Chris Hemsworth, or Danny DeVito? Are men at home thinking about Sydney Sweeney, or Rosie O’Donnell?

Of course, plenty of supermodel-quality women go for rich hippo-sized uggo dudes all the time. But we’re not talking about obvious gold diggers or pay-for-play marriage arrangements. We’re talking about your average everyday relationships. Most people want someone who looks good and turns them on.

Well, here’s the problem. It’s kind of hard to be your best sexy self when you’ve got a hundred pounds of blubber wrapped over your frame like a sports mascot outfit.

This is a serious issue. Something like 75% of people in America are overweight. Almost 40% are obese. OBESE. As in that girl Violet who ate the three-course-meal chewing gum in Willy Wonka and then “blew up like a balloon.”

Those statistics are not just for older adults who are well past the prime dating age. They’re nearly across the board for all adults. Male and female. Even young people in the hot spot of the mating zone.

Years ago when I went back to college to finish my degree I could not believe the number of overweight women I saw on campus. I’m not talking the “freshman 15” here. I’m talking both ass cheeks hanging over the side of the classroom chair. I’m talking pear-shaped plumpernutters. There were plenty of hefty guys, too. Guys with sagging beer bellies. It should be illegal to look like that until you’re at least 45 and have a mortgage and three kids.

At my job at the time, I worked on occasion with an 18-year-old girl whose legs were thicker than my waist. She would come in to work carrying bags of McDonald’s, slurping on Starbucks milkshakes, and then actually complain to others about her weight problems. One time I asked her if she needed help with something work-related, to which she replied, unprompted about the subject, “Yeah, how about you take some of my fat?” I then suggested maybe she should make nutritious food at home instead of always ordering Mcdonald’s. To which she laughed and looked at me like I was insane. I was actually sad, aghast, and brokenhearted inside. All of 18, and she was already hopelessly lost down a dark alley of Big Macs and Big Gulps.

Here’s the thing. Obesity and overweightedness is a (literally) big deal. It affects your health in every negative way. It gives you early diabetes, heart problems, cardiovascular problems, breathing issues, cancer, and wreaks havoc on your joints. Not to mention the most obvious one — it makes you look far less attractive.

Obesity also saps your libido and can harm your reproductive abilities, too.

No wonder the population is declining rapidly. No wonder young people aren’t banging each other anymore. No wonder dating apps are dead. Have you been on any dating app recently? Let’s be honest. How many people did you see on there who WEREN’T fat? Not that many, right? I’m not trying to be funny. It’s legit part of the reason I deleted my accounts a long time ago. It was Cellulite City on there. Gross, no thanks. I don’t need to spend $35 a month just to be flooded with the roundular daughters of the Michelin Man. I’ll wait for my Uma Thurman sexbot instead.

Everyone wants to blame feminism, the Red Pill, toxic masculinity, the disappearance of third places, the hectic modern lifestyle, the economy, the reduction of religion, eroding traditions, and many other reasons for the death of dating and mating. But I think it’s much simpler. People have turned into disgusting fatasses.

Look, I’ll be the first to admit I’m no Brad Pitt. I’m more a darker-complexioned Justin Long. I do make the effort to stay in shape, though. I do what I can with what I got. Being hot is not everything in a relationship. But letting yourself become a blimp will not help.

It’s hard to get out there and clap cheeks when you can barely squeeze your cheeks out the front door, you know?