Context: I matched with Arizona on Hinge one late summer afternoon, a seemingly well-traveled Hill staffer for the great state of Arizona. We chatted for about a week, then made plans to meet at La Colombe for coffee on a Sunday afternoon.
I went on this date like, two months ago, but I’m drunk on a plane so why not write about it? Right? Right.
I remember the day I matched with Arizona on Hinge like it was yesterday. It was a warm day in early September, I had spent the day strolling leisurely around Georgetown, Foggy Bottom and Dupont, and the elastic in my cheap-ass off-the-shoulder shirt from Lou Lou had just snapped at the shoulder, leaving me clutching it to my chest and racing off to the Dupont Lou Lou to get a replacement. The best of times.
After those terrifying few minutes, I re-emerged into Dupont Circle and decided that a $10 Sweetgreen salad was a great consolation prize for having just gotten a free new shirt. I snagged my Harvest Bowl and took off to a bench in Dupont Circle to swipe through dating apps, eat and people watch. An ideal Sunday evening, really.
It was at this point that I came across Arizona, a 6’3, dark-haired stud who seemed to be incredibly well-traveled, a quality that’s always great to find. If I meet one more guy in DC whose idea of a top-notch vacation is their boys’ weekend at Seacrets in Ocean City I will slit my wrists.
And, surprise surprise! Arizona initiated a conversation with something… thoughtful? That indicated he had actually read my bio? Weird, I know. We chatted for a few days, then agreed to meet at La Colombe for coffee on a Sunday afternoon*.
*As referenced in the first ever Sunday Scaries post! Ah, how far I’ve come without liking a single person I’ve been out with.
HOT TAKE: Sometimes, despite my “zero fucks given” attitude (punctuated appropriately by my ‘Can You Chill?’ tumbler from Shop Betches – not an ad, just obsessed. Betches, are you out there? Are you reading this?) I get inappropriately excited about certain dates before I meet them. Arizona was one of these dates.
It was just – I don’t know! He was so attractive, and tall, and worldly, and good at holding (virtual) conversation! I was somewhat smitten – well, as much as you can be with a non-celebrity internet stranger. When he asked me out, I was excited! But… coffee?!
Guys, I don’t think I had been on a sober first date* in over a year. Literally, not since I got ice cream with Hiker and then we never saw each other again even though he invited me to his birthday party recently and definitely reads this blog (hi Hiker! Thanks for not hating me!!!). So, when Arizona suggested La Colombe, I was somewhat panicked and absolutely considered bringing a flask of whiskey. It’s fine, I’m fine.
*I have since been on one more, coffee at Filter Coffee with an incredibly tall and gorgeous man (gap-toothed à la Peter Kraus), who was THE MOST dull person in the world. Like, too dull to warrant a blog post, but enraging enough to send me straight into the arms of my Trader Joe’s wine lady Celeste who poured me a triple tasting. I have since vowed to put an end to coffee dates altogether.
Eventually I decided that if I survived a first date without alcohol I would practically be Wonder Woman, so I obliged. I spent an inordinate amount of time doing my hair and makeup, debated wearing the shortest dress I own for about 30 minutes because it makes my tits and legs look good, ultimately decided against it, and made the walk to La Colombe.
As I was walking up, Arizona texted me.
A – Just got here! I’m wearing a mint shirt and pink shorts.
WHY MUST EVERYONE IN DC DRESS LIKE THEIR FATHER LEAVING EASTER BRUNCH?! SOMEONE ANSWER ME!!!
Already wishing I had brought a flask, I entered La Colombe, spotting Arizona and his pastel getup immediately. This is when I realized three things I hadn’t gleaned from his Hinge profile:
– Lazy eye
– Jacked up teeth
– Weirdly high voice
The dating app trifecta. Glorious. Whatever, at least I’d get a coffee and maybe a friend??
Well, I got a coffee – a damn good iced coffee if I do say so, werk it La Colombe – but a lover/friend? Not so much. Conversationally, Arizona and I didn’t exactly jive – even though we’ve shared a lot of the same travel experiences, his seem more centered on history, while I tend to focus more on the nightlife and culture of cities I visit (shocking, I know). Before I knew it, I was sipping ice dregs from my empty iced coffee, staring idly out the window over his right ear, wishing I was just about anywhere else. It was grand.
Arizona had let me know earlier that he had a hard stop to get to a work event, and I was counting down the moments eagerly. Finally, the moment arrived.
A – Ahh, I’m so sorry to cut this short, but I have to head to the hill for the dinner!
J – AH. WELL. WHAT A SHAME.
A – I’ve had a great time – we should do this again sometime!!
Okay. Gentlemen. I KNOW you’re reading this. When this happens, do you think it’s actually going well? Or are you just trying to be nice? Like, if this guy had been like “it’s been real, peace, lataaaaaa” I would have at least been able to avoid ghosting. I just, like… UGH. Was this really good for you, Arizona?
Once he departed in his Uber, I walked myself back to Dupont, spread myself face-down on my bed, and laid there… for about 60 seconds. Then I did as any good dating blogger would – swallowed my pride and got right back to swiping.
Hey, at least I ticked off another state on my Hill staffer quest, right? 16 underpaid gentlemen down, 34 to go!