Context: I had been chatting with “Ohio” for a week via Hinge, after striking up a conversation by complimenting the Señor Frog’s balloon hat he was wearing in his profile picture. What can I say, I know how to reel ’em in. We made plans to meet up at a bar near his house in Arlington on a Wednesday night.
One of my absolute least favorite questions to receive is “so why is a lady like you on Tinder?” First of all, you say that like Tinder is a bad thing, when it’s really the BEST THING EVER! Second of all, what do you want me to say? “My roommates and I didn’t have wifi the first two weeks we were in our apartment so we downloaded it as a social activity and when we started getting free shit we were super on board, and now we write a blog about our dates?” You want the truth, do ya? You can’t handle the truth.
A conversation like this is much better when sneakily woven into a real-life conversation. For example, when you’re snuggling in bed with a sexxxy man on a Netflix-and-chill date #3, and he tells you that he recently got out of a v v v serious relationship (really sets the mood!!). Or, in the case of Ohio, when you ask him why he moved to DC and he responds with “to follow my girlfriend of seven years (SEVEN! 7! 7!), but then I realized I was an idiot, so two weeks (TWO! 2! 2!) ago we broke up.”
…but, hold on. I’m getting ahead of myself on this rebound story. Let’s get back to the beginning, shall we?
Ohio lives in a neighborhood that I hadn’t yet explored, so I put the onus on him to choose the bar. Trying new things! I’m adventurous! PS I can’t for the life of me remember what it was called but it was hella (is that still a word?) dank (same question) and I highly recommend it.
I plugged the bar’s name into Google Maps and looked at my options. Metro station, metro station… where was the metro station? What do you mean, the closest stop is 1.3 miles away? What kind of podunk town is this?! THANKS Obama. He offered to come pick me up, but I don’t want to get murdered anytime soon, so I decided… that I would… drive.
This is a good time to mention that I HATE driving in the city because there’s never anywhere to park and it really stresses me out to find parking and I’m always like “oh I’ll be ambitious and find street parking” then panic 3 seconds in and park in an exorbitantly expensive public lot. I’m out of breath from typing that sentence but I just get really anxious ok?!
Such was the situation on this day, because I was already running late for the date and had almost been killed trying to make an illegal left turn, so I just turned into the closest garage. Which happened to offer one-hour free parking! So I was crossing my fingers that the date would suck and I could just chug my drink and get out of there FO FREEEE. Why yes, I am gainfully employed, why do you ask?
No such luck (?) because Ohio was AWESOME. He was super laid back and easy to talk to, and we covered just about every topic under the sun during our 4 hours at the bar. I was just sitting there, daydreaming about our future together, when he dropped aforementioned “just broke up with girlfriend of 7 years” line. I was a bit taken aback at first, but figured this was something we could work through in couples’ counseling later, and ordered another Blue Moon.
At one point he got up to go to the bathroom, and I reached to grab my phone out of my purse. In the process of doing so I touched THE LARGE STOMACH OF THE MORBIDLY OBESE WOMAN SITTING WAY TOO CLOSE TO ME. Commence full-body shudder. I quickly apologized, scooted my chair a few inches away, and waited for my Prince Charming to return.
We were approaching the 4-hour mark when a very creepy-looking gentleman seated himself next to Ohio at the bar and began a really fun game called “stare J down with terrifying serial killer eyes.” This was made extra awesome by the fact that I could see him in my peripheral vision the whole time I was gazing lovingly at Ohio’s beautiful face. I suggested that it might be time for us to leave, but I think he sensed my hesitation (or he was also thinking about our future children) because he suggested we grab food at a nearby greasy-spoon type diner. I actually thought that Guy Fieri would walk in at any second, but sadly there was nary a platinum-blond head in sight.
After sharing some more laughs and loving gazes over late-night pancakes, he walked me back to my car, and we made plans to bake a pie together for his Thanksgiving the next week (OMGSOCUTE WE ARE MARRIEDISH). He texted me to ask if I got home ok which like, never happens, because I’m strong and independent (and super into assholes).
And then a few days later, he got back together with his ex-girlfriend.
You don’t bake a love pie with a boy you’re in lust with who is practically betrothed to another woman, so I called off those plans. Still made the pie though. Priorities.
Damn it damn it damn it DAMN IT!!! WHY WORLD WHY?!?!?!