Date Stories, J

J: Why are you wasted?

Context: I matched with ‘Dorko’ on Bumble, and before I could even navigate to his profile to message him (just his name with an exclamation mark, of course; low effort, high reward), he used his 24-hour extend on me. Thanks, sir? We then agreed to meet at Bar Charley at 7 PM on a Wednesday. Not the best time to get wasted – but that’s never stopped J!

I haven’t been on many app dates lately, amigos.

I mean, there was the guy who hated ambition (post TBD but motherfucker was #theworst), and then there was the guy who I TOTALLY knew from college, but who probably didn’t remember me, and also probably didn’t know that I’ve gone on a date with his roommate*, and ALSO probably didn’t know that I went to elementary and middle school with his serious ex-girlfriend.

But like, aside from those, I’ve been riding the “meeting guys at bars” wave PREEETTY strong.

*It’s always awkward when someone brings up an app idea and you’re like “Hmm where have I heard this before” and THEN you’re like “OH SHIT I GHOSTED HIS ROOMMATE”

That is, until this past weekend. After a wine tour with a group of my closest friends, we were all sitting around, watching an episode of First Dates (BEST. SHOW. EVER.), when my friend R posed a tricky question.
R – Who in this room do you think is going to get married first?

We were stumped.

J – Uhhh… MP?
KC – Yeah, MP for sure.
MP – Wait, guys – think about how much fun we’re going to have at each other’s weddings! Open bars, dancing, random hookups, bachelor and bachelorette parties…

Woah, MP. That’s some next level shit, bro. So, terrifyingly enough, we are all now locked in a race to the altar. Because, of course, you don’t want to be the last of your friends to get married – you’ll then need to start paying for all of their plus-ones, people will need to get a sitter for their babies and/or fur babies, and alcohol tolerances will drop significantly. I’m not about that life. So, I returned to the drawing board aka Bumble/Coffee Meets Bagel/Hinge/Happn dashboards (Tinder has recently become nothing more than a repository for trashy humans).

And, as you read above, one of such gentlemen decided that I was lovely enough to ‘Extend’ mere moments after we matched. Well, color me flattered, good sir! He was cute enough, employed, had gone to college, and… had a motivational quote as his bio? Eh, 3 out of 4 ain’t bad. We chatted briefly before scheduling a date for the next evening at Bar Charley.

This agreement was followed shortly thereafter by a text from my good friend who lives in Richmond, letting me know that she’d be in DC Wednesday night and wanted to get drinks. Well, CHICKS BEFORE DICKS, am I right? So, we decided to meet next door at Lauriol Plaza at 6:15, and I pushed my date with Dorko back to 7:30, telling him that I was going to need to stay at the office super late.

What a sucker.

After a lovely dinner and two frozen margaritas, I tried to hide any signs that I had been drinking as I walked into Bar Charley to meet a man who was not quite as cute or as tall as his pictures had led me to believe. CLASSIC. I hugged him nonetheless, and we posted up by the window while we waited for seats at the bar to come available.
D – Wow, I’m so sorry you had to work late! You must work so hard. That’s so impressive that you’re so dedicated to your career.
J – Oh, yes, haha, much work, no margaritas, none at all, LOOK SEATS LET’S GO!

We took the seats, and then he opened a tab so that I could order my favorite drink, the Suffering Bastard (a Gin-Bourbon-Ginger combination served in a decorative tiki mug) and he could order the LITERAL girliest drink on the menu (I wish I was joking when I said it’s called a PIÑA COLADA PERFECTO). We launched into conversation and it quickly became clear that I had not paid nearly enough attention to Dorko’s motivational quote bio. This boy spoke in BUMPER STICKERS. Like, he actually said “Change is inevitable. Growth is optional.” ARE YOU JOKING. I downed my drink and quickly ordered another, nodding along and imagining how horrid it would be to marry my own personal Tony Robbins.

He ordered another girly-ass drink and started trying to plan our life together. I’m not joking, fam; this was The Worst Guy Ever part 2. Roll the tapes!
Dorko – What are you doing this weekend? We should meet up!
J – Haha, not sure yet!
D – I can’t wait to come over and meet your roommates, they sound like fun!
J – ……….lol haha!
D – Hey, what are you up to in October? Wanna come to a music festival with me and my buddies?
J – Um, October is really far away… let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Maybe I cursed myself by asking for marriage. DO NOT WANT. THIS IS BAD.

At this point, I have had 3 strong drinks + 2 margs at plaza, and Dorko has had 3 Malibu cocktails. Guess who has 2 thumbs and is wasted? Not this girl… Dorko. He was so hammered he was practically laying on the bar, and I was praying to every deity I could think of that he wouldn’t try to sloppily make out with me at the bar. To speed up the situation, I asked him how he was getting home.
D – I’m taking an Uber, how about you?
J – *In utter relief that he wasn’t walking to the metro that was close to my house* Oh, I’m walking home!
D – I can walk you home and just Uber from there!
J – *Noooooooooooo*
J – Yeah! You’re so nice! Thank you!

I do this shit to myself.

So, he paid and “walked” me home, which in his hammered state was more of a stumble. Awesome. We were approximately 2 blocks away from my house when I instructed him to call an Uber so it would arrive by the time we got to my front porch. There would be NO funny business tonight, folks. Once his minivan pulled up, he grabbed me and tangled me in a drunk and sloppy make out sesh before retreating into the vehicle. I proceeded to power walk up the stairs, scrub my mouth with soap, put on my PJs, and just as I’m turning on ’13 Reasons Why’ to prove to myself that things could be work, I get 3 TEXTS FROM HIM.
D – Thanks again, J. I had a really fantastic time tonight. Let’s do it again soon!
D – I’m almost home!
D – 🙂

Ugh. Toooooo fast. Thanks for the cocktails, sir, but the road ends here.

Have fun at your music festival in October!


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