Tinder is the devil but I can’t stop!!!
In case anyone was unaware, I am more of a fuck buddy type girl. Please don’t spend the night and please don’t become attached. That’s gross. I know, I know, this is just like that really shitty romcom with JT and Mila. However, in this version my body isn’t nearly as perfect and there is no reference of 90’s music (Don’t get me wrong – I love me some Kris Kross).
When it comes to Tinder I have three rules; always meet in a well lit public place, don’t let them pay and space out sexual encounters with new partners as to not become a total slutbag. (Side note: the fuck boy I was fucking and was fucked over in my last post is long gone).
The guy I’ve matched with most recently, about two weeks ago, is a mother fucking game changer (Please keep in mind that my success rate is currently 2 out of 4758493947). He’s a tall glass of water as my grandmother might say. 6’4, well educated, deliciously mixed, a few years my senior, well established in his field, he hasn’t even asked me to “send him a pic ;)”… I realize this shouldn’t be a pro but look at the world we live in folks. He’s capable of keeping up a terrific conversation, for once I find myself responding rather than rolling my eyes. He doesn’t use stomach turning pick up lines and oddly enough has a disturbing sense of humor to match my own. He’s not offend that I say ‘fuck’ too much and he likes how independent I seem. Please stop rolling your eyes, I realize this could easily be your funny Uncle Lou fucking with young girls on social media. Anyways, he asked me to go to breakfast with him, that’s a real step up from the usual “wyd Saturday nite”. Thank you for not drunk texting me at 2 a.m. asking if I’m up. Oh yeah, and he has a baby. Ohhhh, the wonders of social media. You find a fellas last name and suddenly you know his social.
I’m a straight shooter so I told him I put on my FBI hat and searched for him aaaand of course his response about having a kid was surprisingly honest, maybe even genuine. Lovely. He likes to tell people these things face to face, he knows the stereotypes that come along with the situation, and he loves that I was not judgemental. He is as present and active in his son’s life as he possibly can be and will not put anyone or thing before him. Bullshit? I have no clue. Treading oh so lightly, but I was not judgemental. This is new territory for me but being the product of a young single mother who now kicks fucking ass at life and has a healthy marriage and work life, I won’t count him out just yet, I thought to myself. Lol, runnnnnnn.
Seriously, I can hear you scoffing at me.
Breakfast never paned out, neither did the happy hour we had planned for Thursday. Same goes for the dinner we we’re supposed to have tonight. Now, Daddy Warbucks is on his way to South Beach for a week. People please, let’s all keep in mind that the old me would have done the logical thing. I wouldn’t have even given the guy a third chance, hell probably not even a second thought after the baby bomb was dropped. I wouldn’t have responded to a single note, message, or snap after discovering he has reproduced. And let’s not forget the flakeiness. Ew. The old me would have blocked the shit out of him. HARD PASS. Yet, I find myself cautiously awaiting his return home in hopes that he might actually make an honest Tinder match out of me.
I guess my whole point here is: what the fuck am I doing with my God damn life…