Context: When embarking on a dating journey with a new prospect, it is important to thoroughly vet a gentleman to ensure that he is, in fact, a real person who is not catfishing you. Social media is here to help. Allow J to show you the ropes of a successful LinkedIn stalking expedition. Continue reading
Context: Ahh, Valentine’s Day. A day of love, affection, and me drinking a lot of NyQuil by myself so I don’t have to endure one second of the sappy Facebook and Instagram posts. What a time to be alive.
If you have a date for Valentine’s Day, congratulations, I hate you. If you don’t have a date, congrats! You can be drunk and bitter just like me. Grab a bottle of wine and start swigging while you read these horoscopes. We’ll all be laughing when these cuffing season couples break up by the Ides of March. Continue reading
Context: There is a strange phenomenon running rampant in our society in which boys have decided that it is a good thing to be fuckboys. THIS IS WRONG. IT IS A BAD THING. I present you with evidence to support my case for the “self-identifying fuckboy.” If you have any similar experiences with a fuckboy, please send your screenshots to TinderDistrict@gmail.com. Together, we can cure this horrible, debilitating disease. Continue reading
Context: I matched with ‘Ohio’ on Tinder waaaay back in November, and met up with him for a few drinks at Pearl Dive on a Monday night. A few nights later, my blackout self decided to play my favorite drinking game – self sabotage. He texted me asking if I would like to go on a second date, and I said yes. I said we should go ice skating. ICE SKATING. THE HANDHOLDING SPORT OF THE USA. I couldn’t do it. I needed to back out. The day of the date, I took action. Continue reading
Context: I matched with ‘Fish Lips’ on Tinder, and we chatted for a few days – until my best friend ‘A’ decided it would be a great idea to swipe every guy to the left on a particularly ridiculous Margarita Monday (classic on so many levels). I subsequently re-started my Tinder, re-matched with Fishy, and scheduled a date for a Monday evening at El Centro. Continue reading
Happy New Year, y’all. Did you make lofty #NewYearNewMe resolutions? To go gluten free? To say a big “FUCK YOU” to cursing? To (God save us all) drink less?
Well, newsflash – no one likes your skinny, sober, goody-goody ass, so you should probably just give up now if you haven’t already. Continue reading
Context: In my continuing effort to attend as many holiday parties as possible, I jumped at the chance when a Tinder gentleman invited me to attend his Congresswoman’s holiday soiree at Sette Osteria on a Thursday night. I agreed to head over to his house* in NoMa prior to the party so that we could get our story straight.
*This, children, is a great way to get murdered. Continue reading
Context: Hey, readers. I’m not sure if you’ve been able to tell from my erratic posting schedule, or darker than normal humor, or (if you know me personally) lack of life in my eyes – but my job is killing me*. It all started when I cried at the DC DMV (don’t wanna talk about it) and the very sassy DMV lady in charge of my mess told me that my boss didn’t own me (true), and that life was too short to be miserable (fair), and that I could smile in my license picture (I know that; I am no longer able to smile). Continue reading
Context: I matched with ‘Engineer’ on Tinder, a California hunk with a perfect smile, and he opened by asking me about the blog that I have linked to my Tinder bio. I was like, ‘OMG SOMEONE CARES ABOUT MY INTERESTS,’ and proposed drinks right away. We met at Churchkey on a Saturday afternoon. Continue reading