Early last year I went on what would turn out to be one of the worst dates so far.
We had been chatting for about a week and not once had he given any hints as to what I was really walking into. Though I’m hindsight when he showed up in thongs and a backwards cap, I should have known what I was in for.
“When’s the last time you smashed a bird?” *ABORT*
“I also have this app for finding threesomes” *ABORT*
“I know this really secluded area of this running track up on Mt Gravatt” *ABORT*
Yes all of these sentences came from the same man within the space of 45 minutes. These are all things that should tell you, your date is not going well. Sadly it wasn’t until that last statement and AFTER the attempted car park hand job that I called it quits and offered to drop this gentleman home.
This classic was provided for your entertainment and my disappointment by Tinder. It became increasingly obvious that the big game he talked online about dating and wanting to meet the right guy was far from the socially awkward ‘dude-bro’ struggling with his homosexuality that I was faced with. Looking back he must have been having a really hard time coming out, he had 3 older brothers and he wasn’t out to any of his family. He wasn’t even able to be open with his female housemate (I’m also not 100% sure this wasn’t code for a girlfriend).
The best… or worst part was the text I got the next morning:
“Soz bro, but you’re not my type”
oh buddy, what about last night made you think I wanted to see you again? You did make my list of
At least he paid though.
This post was inspired by Denial