I’m always surprised when my Tinder/Bumble/Happn dates don’t go well.
Surprising right? I mean you’d think that using GPS technology to meet up with strangers would be 100% balanced?
If you’re not meeting your potential suitors in bars, you’re depending on apps such as Tinder and Bumble to find your next shag/bae/husband. And of course, being a 20-something singleton, I find myself swiping often.
This is where I came across Dave*. Decent pictures? Check. Brief but witty intro? Check. B(r)oom it’s a match. Before I know it we’re chatting away and plan to meet at a bar later on in the week. First impressions? I wish he had popped some gum beforehand. Second impressions? He seemed nervous. This quickly dissipated as we drank more. Drinks turned into dinner, dinner turned into cocktails, cocktails turned into a sloppy pash at the end of the night.
Now with every potential suitor there are always alarm bells. This guy’s red flag was that he played quidditch. Competitively. Yes that’s right, he played a fake sport where you run around chasing a ball pretending to have a broom in between your legs. Sexy? Not so much, but he clearly took the ‘sport’ of Quidditch seriously, seeing as he not only played, he was a vice captain as well.
But he had good chat so I decided to go on two subsequent dates with him. Perhaps if I didn’t encourage Quidditch chat he would get the idea that I wasn’t a huge fan. However it was on our third get together that he tells me he wasn’t sure our relationship had legs. I had to pardon myself as I was unaware we were even in a relationship after three meetings. But the real reason he was apparently dumping me, was that he didn’t see me fitting into his hectic work and Quidditch life. I wasn’t meant to be his golden snitch.
Good Lord you know times are rough when you’re shot down because you don’t share a vested interest in a fake sport.
Then I met with Graham* the man who wanted to caress me at the dinner table. First dates, in my opinion, should be had over a coffee or drinks. A casual get together which can last anywhere from 20 minutes (where you fake a emergency phone call) to a few hours.
I met him at a local bar near my work. But one cider in and he’s wanting to hold my hand over the bar table, using his index finger to stroke my palm. Finding this completely cringe, I (not-so)subtly move my hand away. He tries again. He asks me why I’m not into PDA. I try and explain to him that it wasn’t that, it was the fact that I had only met him 15 minutes ago. He seemed offended and I didn’t get a follow up message the next day.
Then I met Adam*, a guy I had swiped yes for on Bumble. He seemed shy but there was an immediate physical attraction. But first, we had to go through the mandatory pleasantries; ‘what do you do for work, how long have you lived in London’.
Two cocktails in and this guy seemed to have had a confidence boost as he thought it was completely ok to ask I was interested in having a gangbang with housemates. Who says chivalry is dead?!
* Names changed to avoid potential awkward conversations.