Tinder Me Crazy

I somehow matched with a guy from Pittsburgh.  Once we realized this, he asked if I believed that anything could happen if you wanted it badly enough?  I said, yes, I do believe that… .  But he was getting at something revolving around continuing this conversation from across the country which I had obviously zero interest in.   Wanting someone I don’t know from a hole in the wall,  who lives in Pittsburgh, is just an absolutely preposterous idea.  So I felt like lying and taking back my answer.  He asked if I wanted to keep in touch, and I just didn’t respond because I had no interest in having a pen pal that I don’t know.  THEN…. I got THIS message.  The.Best.Message.EVER.

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I read it.  Then I read it again.  Then I took it over to V, and read it to her.  I asked her, “What do you even SAY to that???”

She suggested, “And also with you?”

Then I read it again.  And I decided this is a BRILLIANT excuse to start writing really strange poetry and sending it to someone.  I am going to be so weird, it’s not even funny.  And he asked for it.

The next day, I showed it to Carissa… and watched as she read it in horror.  I asked, “What would you respond to that??”

She says, “And also with you?”

I think these two share a brain (but I have to admit, it crossed my mind as well).

So the fun begins… I can’t wait to begin my first email poem or short story.  But I really wish I could see his reaction when he receives it.   MUUUAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAA.

I can’t tell if I’m awake or asleep right now, so I’m going to shut my eyes and figure it out.  This week is draining.  Is it Friday yet??

xoxo

Gossip Girl

 

Yachts and A(nother) First Date…

I wish every day could be the weekend.  Specifically last weekend.  I attended the Cubs/Padres game with my sister and roommates on Friday night, followed by a trip to our favorite local dive bar in PB, The Silver Fox, where I dropped my phone in the toilet.  I quickly plucked it out, and it actually survived, which was surprising.  I met ANOTHER Jew at the bar who wanted to take me out, but lives in northern California or something?  And was just here staying for work?  And he wanted me to come up to wine country to meet him?  Or some other ridiculous request?  Okay, I’m done with the question marks.  That’s just to signify “this is kinda weird because I just met you 10 minutes ago at a dive bar.”

Saturday can be summarized in a short, all-inclusive video that one of the guys made:

Yachting!!

That was an amazing day with some awesome people.  Annndddd… my phone fell in the toilet AGAIN.  This time, I stuck a fork in it; it was done.  What did people do without technology?  Less than 24 hours later I was back up and running with a new (old) iPhone, and had 21 messages from people wondering where I was.  Granted, 17 of them were from the same person… but still.  Now this old phone won’t let me download Tinder, which poses a problem for so many reasons.

1.  I get bored at work

2.  I feel stranded… what if hot men are messaging me and I can’t see them

3.  I get bored at work

4.  I can’t refresh my facts.

Refreshing facts are important.  All of the information for the guys is in that little app…. their age…. their initial messages introducing themselves (location, jobs, etc).  So although I already had a phone number and a date set up with one of them, I couldn’t go back to the app to refresh my facts beforehand.  #firstworldproblems.

So this guy I was going to go out with was apparently a Tinder newbie.  We exchanged numbers and texted a bit… then on Sunday as I was organizing my room, and we were having a normal text conversation, my phone rings.  Errrr… it’s him.  Calling me.  I answer.

“Hey… it’s D.”

“Uhhh…. hi?”

Why is he calling me?  This is weird.  He said wanted to CALL so it would be more normal (less awkward) when we met.  I told him the phone call was way more awkward.  But he kept talking anyway.  And when I told him I was organizing my dresser drawers, he made the mistake of asking me how I was organizing them, so I continued on, detailing which articles of clothing were in which drawers for the next 5 minutes.  By the time we got off the phone 15 minutes later, he admitted that he regretted asking that question.  I was hoping he regretted CALLING me too.  I hate talking on the phone.  Especially to people I don’t know.

So I’m sitting on my sister’s balcony drinking a glass of wine on Monday, and texted him asking what time we were going to meet the next night.  Instead of just answering my simple question, he immediately CALLS me.  I answer:

“Oh, so you’re going for a second phone call??”

“I just thought it was the nicer thing to do.”

Ugh.  I tell him my sister comes on all of my dates, so that she’d be picking me up.  He says, “Oh, okay.  Is she coming out with us for the whole time?”

“No, just at the end.  To look at you.”  (But he’d be ok with her coming out with us for the whole time?  Hahahahaha…)

“Oh, I get it… so she can judge.”

“Exactly.”

“Ok, that’s cool.”

So we made a plan.  The following night I took public transportation from Pacific Beach to downtown San Diego where he lives.  It’s not far.  It’s like a 15 minute drive.  But I just didn’t want to have to deal with having a car in a city.

Bus:  $2.25

Trolley from bus:  $2.50

Look on my date’s face when I told him I took public transportation:  Priceless.

I don’t get it.  I really don’t understand why no one takes advantage of the public transportation here.  It’s so easy!  And so fast.  And so fun.  But anyway… I met him outside of his fancy condo complex.  There were waterfalls and everything.  Fancy.  We walked to a place called Vin de Syrah.  Fancy.  It was kinda underground with an Alice in Wonderland theme going on.  The door to get in was hidden & covered in grass, and there was a decoy door to trick people.  There was also a hidden camera which was linked to a TV inside so everyone could laugh at people trying to get in.  Thankfully, my roommate, T had been to this place before, so she warned me beforehand about the secret door.  I think my date was really disappointed that I didn’t look like a fool… because he had no intentions of directing me to the real door.

The inside was cool.  There was grass and plants on the walls, and playing cards on the ceiling.  So we sat down at the bar, except they weren’t bar stools.  It was like a two person cushioned bench.  So because I’m such a prude, I put my purse in between us so we wouldn’t awkwardly brush up against each other.   I’m so freakin’ awkward.

So conversation was going well… we were laughing and chatting, and it was natural.  Until it somehow came up in conversation that he has asthma.  I really, truly don’t know why, but I made some kind of awful looking face and was like, “you have asthma??”

He was confused by my reaction… and explained it was very mild asthma.  I asked if he had an inhaler and he said no.  Then he asked if that really bothered me and I just burst out laughing, because I realized how ridiculous I was acting.  He goes,

“You should have seen your face.  It was a look of disgust I’ve never seen before.  I was half expecting you to get up and run out of here.”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that.  I have nothing against asthma, I swear.”

“I was preparing for my buddies to ask how it went and I’d have to tell them, ‘I thought it was going well until I told her I had asthma and she just ran out.'”

Whoops.

After a drink, we went to another place for one more, which was more my scene… a bit more casual and pubby.  That’s where Carissa met us to come pick me up.  To be honest, I definitely could have stayed out with him for longer.  We were just getting into the meat of some good conversation.  But it was probably a perfect length of time… enough to get a feel for each other’s personalities, but leaving enough yet to be known to want to see each other again.

As soon as we dropped him off, Carissa gave her nod of approval with a simple:  “He’s the winner so-far.”

So… we’ll see.

JR is still up the wazoo texting from Amsterdam and comes home on Friday.  I didn’t really follow orders to not see any other guys… so I’m a little bit like “oopsy poopsy, I went on like 8 dates while you were gone.”  But at least he’ll be happy to know the majority of them were horrible.

Over and out for now, my little popsicles.

xoxo

Gossip Girl

Double Dates (Meaning TWO…)

So I got home from work yesterday and plopped my butt on the couch.  I didn’t really feel like going on this date, but also didn’t feel rude enough to cancel at the last-minute.  V walks in and sits down with me.  We’re both swiping away at Tinder, and I say,

“I wonder if we have any of the same matches?”

So we both pull up all of our matches and we’re trying to compare, when I decided this game would be way more fun with a bottle of wine.  So it turned into:

“Do you have a Chris?”

“Go Fish.  Drink.”

“Do you have an Evan?”

“Go Fish.  Drink.”

“Do you have a Tom?”

“Yes!”

“Does he have a glass of whiskey in his hand??”

“Yes!!”

“Let me see!”

“Nope, two different Toms with glasses of whiskey in their hands.  Go fish.”

Brie walks in shortly after and sees V with a glass of wine, and asks, “Are we still going for a walk?”

V says, “Well I don’t really WANT to…”

So the game continues until its time for me to leave.

I decide to walk because I still haven’t caught onto the fact that nobody in this town walks places or takes public transportation.  When I told my roommate T, I was taking the bus downtown the other night she goes, “What???”  followed by, “You’re so funny.”  It was $2.25!!!  And hassle free!  I loved it!  Anyway… off topic.

I called Emitch on my walk and she asks, “How far is the place?”

“Eh, like a mile and a half?”

“WHAT??!  Why are you walking there?  You’re going to be a disgusting sweaty mess by the time you get there.”

“No, it’s not hot here when the sun goes down.  I’m actually thinking about putting my jacket on.”

“Ok.”

Flash forward, I was LATE (obvi) so I broke into a speed walk towards the end and I WAS a sweaty mess by the time I arrived.  The dude was what I expected, looks-wise.  He was kinda little, but good-looking.  But, like too put-together, good-looking.  I don’t think my brother reads these posts, but if he did he’d come and slap me, because this guy was a “Lax-Bro” and my brother gave me a strict “no dating lacrosse players” rule.  It’s basically his only rule.  And this guy had a photo of himself PLAYING lacrosse as one of his OkCupid profile pics, so I felt a little guilty agreeing to go out with him.  Which, let’s address here.  He played lacrosse in COLLEGE… and he’s 33, so I’m not the best at math, but that was ummm…. a really long time ago.  And it came up in conversation at least three times.  Like we actually had a side conversation ABOUT lacrosse, which isn’t even a sport I’ve ever cared about.

But in any case, he was nice, he had a job, he had his shit together, and he was a gentleman.  I wasn’t feeling it though.  And I agreed to a second drink, but didn’t really want it.  And I was texting on the side in the bathroom (I know, bitchy move), but some other guy who knew I was on a date wanted to meet up afterwards, and my sister said she’d pick me up after school and take me somewhere else, so these bathroom breaks were needed for coordination purposes.  Well, and because I had to pee.  Obvi.

So we’re sitting, chatting, and I realized I didn’t even know his last name (I actually kinda forgot his first name too because I never saved it in my phone).  So I pulled a slick move and scrolled to his first text to see what his name was.  It was what I would have guessed, so I felt a LITTLE better about myself.  Then I asked for his last name.  He told me.  Then he says, “It’s Spanish… well Mexican.”

“HAHAHAHHA you’re Mexican?!  I have to tell my sister!”

Which gives me another excuse to text.  She had just asked me that day why all the guys she meets are Mexican, and I never meet any.  So I had to notify her immediately.

Lax-Bro then says, “Is this strictly for your phone, or are you going to google me when you get home?”

“I’m totally going to google you.”

“Well, I guess I should warn you about something then…”

Ohhh geez… here we go….

“A couple of years ago, another guy who came from Mexico has the same exact first and last name… He moved up to Oregon…. and I guess he shot a few people…. soooo… when you google my name there’s a lot of news articles about that…”

“OMG!  You’re a murderer?!?!”

“Not me… just a guy with the same name…”

That’s it.  I was convinced.  He’s a murderer.  It’s not a common name.  At all.  And it was a good way out of this date.  I don’t date murderers.

I told him my sister was going to pick me up on her way back from school, which in my opinion, took way too long.  And she wanted to see him.  So she parked the car and came in.  She met him for about 2 minutes, then I told him it was time for us to go. So we said our goodbyes and pretended to go home, but went to a bar down the street to meet the other guy.

Carissa said, “ew” and “absolutely not” about the Lax-Bro.  Second guy walks in, says hello and then goes to the bar to get a drink and she says, “much better than the last one.”

So he comes up to the table and asks, “So how was your first date of the night?”

“It was ok.  He was a nice guy.  Carissa didn’t like him.”

“What was wrong with him?”

Carissa makes a motion near her eyeballs and said, “He had really creepy eyes.”

[Murderer].

Second date shrugs, looks at Carissa and says, “So do you go on all of her dates?”

“Pretty much…”

The guy was a Jew.  I personally have nothing against dating Jews, but from past experience (not really my own experience), I know that their mothers never like them dating or marrying non-Jews, so I feel like it’s kinda a waste of time.  I obviously told him this.  He said his mother is like the one from “Mean Girls…” I wasn’t sure how to take that.  I think I’d be frightened of her.

The three of us are sitting at a table, and some guy I’ve never seen before comes up and says, “Are you Court?”

I’m like… “Ummm.. yeah?”

He says, “Were you at a Yelp event downtown on Tuesday night, wearing a name-tag and sitting at the bar with one of your girlfriends?”

“Ummmm yeahhh….”

“I was the server for the tables!  I went like THIS all night!”  (he puts his arm straight up in the air, imitating a server with a tray on his hand).

Omg…. how is he recognizing me right now?  And you should have seen the Jew’s face, he was so confused by this encounter.

Then the server says, “You wrote us up an awesome review!”

“You read my review????”

“Yeah, it was awesome.  And I’m so glad you called out that obnoxious woman who was giving the bartender a hard time!  She was the WORST!”

“You saw that happen too?????”

“Yeah, I was standing right next to you.”

I am so oblivious.

The Jew was very confused.  Even after I tried to explain.  But he let it go.  He asked if Lax-Bro had sent me a follow-up text, and I told him no.  He left shortly after because he had to let his dog out, and also because he was probably freaked out.  He sent me a text a few minutes after, saying the only reason he was texting was because he felt bad that the other guy didn’t text me.  Gee, thanks.

He then admitted we are probably the worst match ever, but followed it up by saying we should get together again, possibly Sunday to discuss it further.  Dudes are so confusing.

Carissa’s Mexican lover, Tonto came out and met us, WITHOUT any friends… always solo… Never any love for me.  Worst wingman ever.  We counted him as our third date for the night anyway, then he drove us home.

Just another Thursday night.

And since it’s finally Friday and I LOL’ed  (thanks Lisa)…. I will leave you with this:

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xoxo

Gossip Girl

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