Date Stories, J

J: Double Trouble

Context: I was initially drawn to swipe right on ‘Runner’ because his bio said he was a) 6’5 (be still my heart) and b) an intern at the company I interned with the summer before. Which meant that we would DEFINITELY have something to talk about besides the weather and the menu and “so how ’bout them Yankees?” (this was one of my first Tinder dates this past summer, so my conversational skills were not as advanced as I pretend they are today). We met at Don Tito’s on a Saturday afternoon in July.

Over the course of my Tinder escapades, I have learned a thing or two about date timing.

  1. If you are planning to have dinner with someone, never schedule it for before 6:00 PM. Otherwise, your date will ask you why you want to “dine with the octogenarians” and rag on you for being elderly for the ENTIRETY of the date. Also, if a guy does this, there is a good chance that he’s a douchenozzle and you should crawl out the bathroom window while you have the chance.early
  2. Conversely, if you are planning to ONLY have drinks with someone, you should schedule it for a time when you know you’ll have eaten recently. Otherwise, you put yourself in the position of stumbling home after four drinks, slurring gibberish about your “early meeting in the morning” and proceeding to scarf down an entire bag of Chex Mix in 35 seconds as soon as you return to the safety of your apartment.*
  3. Scheduling two Tinder dates in one day IS possible, but requires the endurance of an ultramarathon runner, combined with the planning and dedication of your Type A friend who has scheduled their life out two years in advance. What, you mean you don’t know what you’re having for lunch next Veterans Day?! PLEBEIAN.

*This has absolutely never happened to me, I pinky promise.


On this July day, however, I thought I was invincible. I could tour apartments, get drinks with one guy, and then get dinner with another guy, no problem! So, I prepped for a long day of dates in DC, just like the Girl Scouts taught me. I stuffed the essentials in my purse: wallet, gum (always gotta be prepared for the smooch), hairbrush, novel (Metro rides, amirite?!), umbrella (DC weather, so unpredictable!), the entire contents of my travel-sized toiletry collection, a portable CD player, and my pet hedgehog. Ok, so half of that was a lie, but I legitimately felt like Mary Poppins’ slutty niece with the amount of random items in my bag.


‘Runner’ was keeping me updated on his whereabouts during his metro ride over, and he suggested that I grab us a table at Don Tito’s and they would meet me there. I was like “naw I’m not grabbing a table by myself also who the efffff is they?!” He was like “Oh I forgot to tell you, I’m bringing my roommate and he also has a Tinder date meeting us!”

Wait, so now I get two boys to choose from? JACKPOT.


…or at least, that was my thinking until they exited the Metro and I realized that I had DEFINITELY made the better choice. His roommate was really sweet, but not my type at all. His date was super cool and pretty though, and we had a good time as we settled into a booth upstairs at Don Tito’s.

They all started talking about food, and although I had a dinner date planned in Chinatown, my boy was SUPER attractive and I was very down to prolong this date for a few hours. I texted the second date to let him know that important family matters had come up and would it be okay to reschedule and I’m so sorry!!! He was super sweet and we rescheduled for later that week. With time pressure off my brain, I turned my attention to what REALLY mattered: tacos. Oh, and my date, I guess.

…Except, as we start to order drinks, my date whispers across the table to his roommate “hey, man, do you think my fake will work here?”

Um. What? Your what?!


I was like “haha, what EVER do you mean, sir? Your Tinder profile said you were 22? Please tell me you’re 22??” He was like “nah, the age on that old thing is wrong, I actually just turned 20.”

NooooOOOOOOooooo!!!! The cutest, funniest guy I’ve been out with since school ended, and he’s not even of legal drinking age?! I cried into my (legal) margarita. Hey, at least his fake worked?


We ended up sticking around Don Tito’s for about 4 hours, and eventually asked for the check (I paid my portion because I have a job and was not about to make a deceitful infant pay for my Corona-rita). I thought we were both heading back to the Dunn Loring station, so I was confused when he and his roommate headed to the other side of the tracks.

“Oh! I’m just going to meet up with my drug dealer to pick up some weed and adderall for when I visit my friends taking summer classes.”


Oh, college students. How cute. You know what else is cute? NOT GOING ON ANY MORE DATES WITH UNDERAGE BOYS.


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