As many of you know, I've been a long time fan of former Cosmopolitan Editor and overall badass homegirl Helen Gurley Brown for quite some time now (RIP GIRL). (She's even the reason I call yall pussycats!)
So I thought since I'm young, single, having sex, and in the city of all cities, I would honor my Queen and create a new series for this blog about my dating and sexual mishaps called "Sex and the Awkward Girl" (a play off her well-known book Sex and the Single Girl).
Now, If you guys aren’t actively following me on tumblr or maybe even Instagram, you may have no clue about my obsession with Tinder.
If y'all are living under a rock or are one of those annoying millenials who always pretends they have no clue what is going on in pop-culture to seem posh or whatever, Tinder is a dating app. The way it works is you post up-to 6 photos of yourself and a tiny bio, and based off your geographical closeness others will swipe yay or nay depending on whether they think you are sexxii or not.
The ratio of dreamy to sleazy on there is about 5 to 401943019401390 on there, but you gotta pay to play pussycats. I mean, despite my very careful selection process, I've been asked to have Nutella licked off of me by THREE DIFFERENT GUYS...yep.
While many deem this as superficial or impersonal, a friend of mine compared it to Amazon recommendations, there’s no way you can guarantee that you will like what you purchased, but based off their recommendations you might. And this is what I want to talk to you guys about today.
Sit back, make yourself a dry martini and enjoy my dating misfortunes, there are certainly more where this comes from.
A few weeks ago I saw this guy on tinder who looked pretty cute (lets be real, his dog was really cute in his main picture). So I met up with him for beer at a hole-in-the-wall bar in Soho. It was a pretty alright night. He seemed kinda bro-y but my beer goggles convinced me that he looked JUST like Adrian Grenier and that despite the fact that we mostly talked about him, his lacrosse team and all of the “famous” (D-list) celebrities that he worked with, my dummie brain thought, “hey! I should go on a second date with this guy.”
To his credit he was a pretty good kisser, and you might be thinking "but Caelan, if he seemed douchey why did you kiss him?" This is a very valid question. A question which I could only respond to by raising my hands in the air and ask myself why I do a lot of the things that I do. Why do I spend 15 minutes straightening my hair to only put it in a bun 5 minutes later and ruin my hard earned work? Why do I still watch the show Nashville? Why did I just eat an entire tube of Barbeque pringles, two tall boys and some spam? I DON'T KNOW PEOPLE? I really don't know.
ANYWAY, He also earned brownie points with me when I got sick and he was the only dude to send me really nice texts while I was basically dead, which is sort of redeeming. After shaking my sickness off, I decided we should get drinks and see what happens.
After waiting almost 30 minutes for him in Soho on a really cold and windy autumn night, he arrived without any expression on his face. He didn’t apologize for being late, he didn’t ask me how my day was – he had an air to him that made me feel like he was doing me a favor...which obviously did not sit well with me.
Then to ease the awkwardness I suggested we get drinks over dinner, but he insisted on not drinking, which isn't something I would want to make anyone feel bad about, but it certainly didn’t help alleviate the awkwardness of the evening. I drank my very large beers very fast and nodded as he continued to tell me more stories about himself, not listen to me when I was talking, talk over me, and interrupt me to talk more about himself. Beer goggles could not save me now.
Half-way through the night he was suggesting another date and I honestly said to him, “you realize you know nothing about me, right?,” and he said, “yeah, you’re right” to which I replied, “do you wanna know why that is?” He nodded, and I said, “because you haven’t asked me a single question about myself all night.”
But that didn’t even shake him. In his opinion we were having a GREAT time. He told me HILARIOUS stories about the racist jokes he tells his teammates, how he doesn’t identify as a feminist because it didn't really matter to him, and how he refers to this girl who has had sex with him and several of his friends as the “homie hopper.”
One of my favorite anecdotes of the night was the story about that one time he stood up a tinder date because she was larger than he gathered from her photos...believe me, I'm more embarrassed to have gone out on a second date with this dill-hole than Ashley Simpson was after her 2004 SNL performance (if only I could've awkwardly square danced out of the restaurant).
The icing on the cake of the night was when he confessed to cyber-bullying and trolling people on the internet for fun. WHO DOES THAT!!? I never understood what type of person enjoys making people feel bad for their own benefit, I think behavior like that is absolutely deplorable and pathetic.
He was you’re a-typical entitled white cis jerkoff who didn’t even care to bother to listen to me or have a proper conversation (you know, where both people talk?). He boasted about how much money he had and tried to front like he was going to buy some Fendi shoes later. But when the bill came he got really awkward and basically told me that I owe him for next time...really bro?
I kept hoping for the night to get better while simultaneously making a mental check-list of all of his ungentlemen-y behavior. However, when he alluded to a next-time I kept saying, “yeah buddie I don’t know about that.” He texted me the next day making a joke and thanking me for last night (which was the first time I ever heard him have any manners) and I decided to be upfront with him.
Since my ex completely just stopped talking to me, I decided with this boy I would give him a legitimate send-off because no one likes to be ignored. I texted him, “Hey, I hate when people just stop talking to me or lead me on so I’m gonna be blunt right now, I think you’re pretty cool but I don’t think this is gonna go anywhere, I could never date anyone who isn’t a feminist or care about social justice issues as much as me. I’ll gladly still be your friend, but I’d rather not lead you on and have you think that this is going in that direction.”
Then he responded in the most charming way possible:
“Um Okay I guess
I don’t really know what to say
Well that’s your decision
But In my opinion you’re missing out on someone who is a great person
I’m not very happy about this.”
Just to be a jerk I was gonna write, “and that’s a decision I’m going to have to live with every day” but I don’t like to be unnecessarily cruel, so I ignored him.
Then I got a follow-up text the next day asking if he can take me out to lunch later this week to talk, to which I had to put my badbitch face on and say, “There’s nothing to talk about, we had two dates and I realized I’m not interested in dating you, sorry.”
Things we learned from this story:
- Don’t drink too much beer on the first date
- Don’t go out with entitled douchebags
- You don’t always owe people an explanation, because you might just face-palm at their response especially if they are a self-proclaimed "great guy"
- Avoid guys who openly don't care about feminism (it mean's they don't care about your rights or those of anyones but themselves)
Have you ever gone on a date like this?
Let me know and until then
please keep it sassy,