Immediately after leaving my husband I started swiping. I could not WAIT to get Tinder! I wanted it my whole life! The night I moved out I sat, surrounded by my suitcases in my best friend’s condo and she and I swiped and giggled while drinking wine until the wee hours of the morn’. ( Well, until maybe 11 pm. She has an infant so bedtime is early for parents apparently.)
That night I felt free. Granted, I was homeless and without my dogs but free nonetheless! I matched with a guy who was the opposite of my type – computer engineer by day and actor by night, short guy with long, wild hair. We messaged back and forth until messaging turned to texting and that turned into late night phone calls. We finally decided to meet. He wanted to take me to a “fancy” restaurant which was his favorite place in the city. I was pumped! My first date!
That Sunday while shopping with my friend, he texted and asked if I wanted to meet at Dave and Buster’s. Dave and mother fucking Buster’s?! Not the fancy place I was expecting but I was going with it. My friend immediately insisted I abort this mission because the loser vibes instantly hit her. She’s far more perceptive than I am.
I got dressed but not overdressed and ventured to our meeting point, as awful as it seemed. The floor was sticky, children were running amuck and I felt like Zsa Zsa Gabor if she were to walk into an unkempt barn surrounded by wild chickens and pigs, flinging horse shit onto her Dior gown. I was in actual hell. “Fuck it,” I thought, “man up and do the damn thing.” So I did. I ordered a beer from the sweatiest human being I’ve ever laid eyes on. I sat and nursed that beer for 45 full fucking minutes waiting on this asshole. Just as I was leaving, I was hugged by a smelly imp. He looked like a warped version of his pictures. He looked like my Mr. Potato Head after my younger siblings rearranged the eyes, nose and mouth to piss me off. My excitement for my first date waned substantially after the whole Dave and Buster’s thing but now it was drained entirely. Gone. It would never return and my head was spinning, trying to think of ways to get out of this ghastly situation. This was my first date though and I had ZERO plan here and no idea what to do.
He ordered a Sprite which was delivered to him in a bucket-sized plastic cup. He slurped it down and we made small talk. He kept smiling and touching my knee and I stared at him in horror and repeatedly moved his hand to his own knee. “Let’s get out of here and get dinner” he said. Fuck yes. The sooner we do that, the sooner I get out of here. He doesn’t have Lyft or Uber on his phone yet, he explained to me, because he just moved to the city from the suburbs six months ago. WHAT!? I didn’t even want to ask and hear an explanation of why he hasn’t taken 10 seconds to download a stupid app so I just got in the cab with him and prayed to dogs that this would all be over soon.
We arrived at our destination. Our fancy restaurant. The BEST in the city. The Cheesecake Factory.
Swiping My Life Away 