After weeks of not getting enough attention from my “boyfriends” and nearly two months of having no sex, I decided it was time to swipe. Swiping used to be something I did as often as I breathed when I was newly single. After a while though, my swiping happened about as often as I mopped my floors, which was rarely.
I matched with a guy that night and we talked until after 4am. Both of us were shocked by this because we never chatted so much with people on dating apps and definitely never had so much fun doing it that we didn’t want to stop to sleep. He was also divorced, loved dogs, baseball, art and painting. He was in real estate and owned some investment properties and said he and his friends basically tried to work as little as possible all summer. (#lifegoals) Although, while my other hobbies include blogging, running and doing yoga, he was more into racing motorcycles, volunteering at PAWS and boating in his free time. And then I fell in love… (But seriously, what the hell is the deal with all these guys on Tinder and Bumble who have boats and why do I match with all of them? I must smell like Lake Michigan and they’re instantly attracted. Maybe…?) Everything about him seemed perfect until he called himself the Hugh Hefner of real estate and said he was surrounded by beautiful buildings instead of beautiful women. I gave him a pass on this lame ass comment because of the regular volunteering at PAWS.
A week went by and we chatted regularly, most often until close to 5am. One night around 3am, we both wanted tacos and ice cream. He lived nearby and told me to meet him at 7-11. He honestly asked me to walk 15 minutes to 7-11…at 3am…for some fuckin’ Ben & Jerry’s. Although the Pistachio Pistachio was screaming my name for all of Lakeview to hear, I opted to stay in my bed. This is when he tells me he already hopped in his Range Rover to drive (1/2 a block) to the convenience store to get ice cream. Instead of picking me up to get some or buying some for me and dropping it off, he took pictures of the icy pints of cookie dough and pistachio and sent them to me and told me he’d save my ice cream at his place for whenever I come over. Well isn’t that some bullshit??
A few days later after making plans to go check out the Navy Pier fireworks with one of my “boyfriends”, the plans fell through so I texted the ice cream man to see what he was up to. He invited me to meet him and some friends at Diversey Yacht Club. I walked over there after work and drank tequila cocktails and ate M&M’s with him and his friends. All they did was talk shit to each other and laugh so hard their faces and stomachs hurt. Naturally, I fit right in and loved them. I still swear his best friend and I were separated at birth. She’s brutally honest and blunt and incredibly foul-mouthed. He had the best laugh though. The kind of laugh that you know is genuine. It starts with a smile that stretches wider than you’d think was possible and makes you close your eyes so tightly. It’s accompanied by a loud sound that can only come from deep in your belly and the laugh ends with a long sigh while you wipe away tears and lean forward, clutching your stomach. He had that kind of laugh. All night.
Finally someone suggested a late-night boat cruise. The water and weather were perfect for the first 20 minutes. On our way back, the winds changed and buckets of water were being poured on us while we slid and bounced around the back of the boat. When we came back to the dock, he disappeared for a long time and his friends asked me if I wanted to do a little bump. Who am I to turn down free coke? It would have been rude of me. I graciously accepted, put my soaking hair into a bun and put on someone’s dry hoodie and we all wiped the seats and tables down with towels so we could sit and hang out again. When he came back, he and I snuggled up under a blanket and all of us had another drink and talked on the back of the boat for a couple more hours. He and I were both yawning and then had a mini tickle fight to wake up a bit. Everyone else had enough blow in their systems to party all night, I’m sure.
I had to work in the morning and he offered to drive me home. I said goodbye to people I expected would be my life-long best friends forever. We all hugged and said we were looking forward to hanging out again soon and the ice cream man walked with me to his Range Rover, he opened the door for me and I hopped in. He took me to my place, hugged me goodbye and waited until I got inside. After I showered the dirty lake water off of my body and out of my hair, I texted him to say thanks for everything and of course, sarcastically tell him how boring he was. He responded with, “lol I’m fucking awesome and you know it. tonight was definitely a blast.”
What could have been a boring Wednesday night in, ended up being an unexpected, fun-filled adventure with great people and a guy that I could really like. Nights like that are what summers are all about. Spontaneity, fun, laughs. The next day I had a cancellation at work and still wanted that fucking ice cream. Since I knew he rarely worked and he also lived down the street from my salon, I texted to see if he wanted to check out the new gelato spot on Southport. No response. I assumed he must be busy actually working or he was on the boat. Either way he normally replied right away but I didn’t worry about it. I went to the French bakery with my friend and got myself a macaroon instead. Later that night I texted him while I was (actually) Netflixing and chillin’. Hours later, still no response.
I could have just let it go like that but I didn’t want to. How hard is it to just say you aren’t interested in someone? How hard is it to just reply to a fucking text? Not hard at all. I let him know those things and told him ignoring someone is rude (Why do I have to tell so many people this??) and I would have appreciated a little communication since we’re grown adults. I thanked him again for everything and wished him luck in the shitty world of dating and thanked him also for reminding me that I should give up on it. If guys were ice cream, Baskin Robbins doesn’t even have enough flavors for me. I think I’ve gone through all 31 and every last one sucks. I’d rather die a born-again virgin before I swipe again and meet another guy.
Swiping My Life Away 