In reading back through previous blogs (and feeling like a piece of shit that I haven’t been writing as often as I once did) I realized I never finished talking about my post-Owl Tinder-ing. I am committed to starting to write more again. Please hold me to it. Here’s the story of date #1 of the Tinder 7.
It has been a while, so I’ll offer a quick recap: The Owl broke up with me, I cried for 24 hours, re-downloaded tinder, matched with 7 people and agreed to go on 3 dates. My first date was with The Bowler.
As you may have read, we had a mutual friend in common, so while he wasn’t my “type” (read: he was bald, not great teeth, seemed short based on the pictures of him with others) I figured he was clearly a good person if we had this guy in common… so I agreed to meet him at this cool bowling alley with drink service and snacks and such. I had a hell of a time finding the place but eventually I found parking and a severe anxiety attack.
I didn’t know this guy from Adam.
I didn’t know what he looked like, basically.
I had JUST gotten out of a relationship about 5 days ago.
I sat in the car for entirely too long, watched people weave in and out of passing cars to go inside or go to their cars, finally got to the elevator and pushed the down arrow. When the doors opened in the lobby there were a few people there, but there was no mistaking my date. He was everything I said in the above parenthetical statement, and nothing more. I already hated myself for feeling let down since I mostly knew what to expect. But I trudged on.
He was polite. He opened doors. We ordered drinks. We bowled. It was… in a word… apathetic. I couldn’t have cared less if I was there or laying across my bed reading “I Like You Just The Way I Am” for the fifth time. And while it’s a great way to spend a snowy Sunday, a date should be a little more enticing than that, shouldn’t it?
The date wasn’t BAD per se. We talked comfortably, but it became increasingly clear that we had nothing in common except for one mutual friend and a religious belief system. When we were done bowling (and having some drinkies) he walked me to my car… sort of. He walked me to my parking level in the parking garage and at a spot where we both were equidistant from our vehicles, we awkwardly hugged, and I pulled away before he could sneak in a kiss of any sort (cheek or otherwise.) He asked if he could see me again sometime and I was as wonderfully non-committal as I could be with my “We’ll be in touch!” I headed home and began to confirm pre-plans for my date the next day with #2 of the Tinder 7: The Sake Bomber.
A few days later, when I hadn’t heard back, I figured he understood that my “I’ll have my people call your people” version of a good-bye was more “have a good life” than “see you soon.”