I don't usually like to admit that not only do I have a Tinder, but I have used it and actually met a few select guys off of it. But then again, Cazey and I went on a local TV station to talk about said fact, so there it is, out in the open. And since it's now (un) comfortably out in the open, I might as well write about it, right?
My general experience with Tinder has been, while not anything to write home about, also not terribly horrifying either. It's about on par with the caliber of guys I meet drunkenly at a bar.
Until this one time. This one time is so hilarious to me that it deserves its own blog post.
I'm just doing my normal Tinder thing this one time, swiping away before bedtime. Then this guys pops up, and high school me just about dies. He played instruments, looked like he was in a band and looked like he was in a band. He must be in a band. Again, high school me liked people who looked like they were in a band. So I swiped right.
I almost immediately got a message telling me how beautiful I was. Inner high school me swoons. And then he basically just says he can't believe how pretty I am, then repeats himself over and over again. Now I don't believe him anymore.
Over the next few days, we message a bit, but it never makes it past the "hey how are you," "I'm at work," sort of dialogue. Then he kept asking me to hang out. Like All. The. Time. It felt a bit weird since he knew nothing of substance about me, but I guess he can learn that about me when we hang out, right?
I was at a bar one night soon thereafter with a few friends, and he was right next door, so we met for maybe ten minutes. That was it. He seemed alright, but I wasn't blown away.
We then kept talking, and he kept asking to hang out again. I sort of ghosted and so did he, so you'd probably think that's the end of the story. Easy come, easy go. But nope.
A few weeks go by, and by this point I've essentially forgotten about his existence. Then he messages me again. He wants to hang out really, really bad. Then he says he wants to kiss me. Riiiiiiiight.
So I respond with: riiiiiiight (because comebacks apparently aren't my thing). And in return I get a mini novella about how he really wants to live up to my expectations and wants to date me, but can't commit enough time to get to know me at a level that would be conducive to dating.
I almost cried. I was almost in tears because I couldn't stop laughing. I'm not sure what part of our extremely limited interaction led him to believe that I had expectations that we were going to date. I was almost offended he thought that of me. We ghosted each other, I hadn't talked to him in weeks, so what signals was I sending out to him that my expectations were to continue seriously toward a joint future?
And since when is it acceptable to send someone a breakup text when you were never together? I'm all for transparency and honesty in managing people's expectations, but really? Maybe hold off on the breakups with people who you've met for less than 10 minutes a month ago.