Chapter 2 : The Perfect Flop
Every young Generation-Y person faces a choice, a one time or another in their life, that will alter the course of their life forever. Making this decision, taking the leap of faith, is a crucial moment, almost like a rite of passage. Some feel nauseated just thinking about it, others are very confident that their choice is the right one. For me, I made this decision at the worst moment ever: I was a little heartbroken and had drank a little too much…
(Obviously, I’m talking about drinking grape juice!)
Anyhow, on that cold Saturday night of September, alone in my apartment, after a series of bad calls and misjudgments had left me lonely and heartbroken once again, I downloaded Tinder.
Sad, pathetic, unromantic Tinder. You don’t really understand the gravity of your action until you open the app and see all the weird things it contains. People looking for flings and adventures, people looking for a third party to join their couple for a night, people with the strangest names I’ve ever seen!
As I swipe left with an automatic fashion, I finally find one profile that doesn’t make me feel like laughing and crying at the same time.
Her name was Tess. With her dark brown eyes and long brown hair, her well-written description and a few pictures of her and her German Shepherd puppy, my heart gave me a little push and I swiped right.
“IT’S A MATCH!” said Tinder.
I wrote to her, and started imagining what our kids would look like as I waited for her to answer.
She did a few hours later. I spare you the details of the conversation, but let’s just say we got along very fast. I asked her out a short 24hrs after I had found her profile, but due to her very busy schedule, we had to wait a full week before we could see each other. I don’t think I left my phone for more than 5 minutes during that week, I was always texting her!
And Friday night came, I took an hour to get dressed and put on makeup and ended up playing video games as I waited for her to come pick me up. When she texted she was there, my heart started racing. I leaped from the couch and ran to the door. Moment of truth. She was waiting for me by her car, leaning on the passenger door, like in a cheesy RomCom.
“Hi,” I said, very happy she is real and not a 300 pounds man who likes to catfish hopelessly romantic lesbians.
“Hey,” she answered, her voice lower than I had expected.
We drove to the restaurant I had picked: The Warehouse (my favorite!). I paid for parking, we each paid for the food we had and she paid for dessert. The whole night went great, a little awkward at times, like any first date, but we had a lot of fun and never ran out of conversation. She told me about her dog (his name is Marley and he’s 8 months old now), her job (she’s a graphic designer), her hobbies (she likes sports like hiking and rugby, and she likes photography), her family (one older brother). I told her about school, about what it’s like being on your own in the big city, about my job as a substitute teacher.
It was a great date, we were laughing, we were flirty, we were holding hands, it felt like a dream.
After dinner, I didn’t want the date to be over just yet, so I invited her to my place to watch this show on Netflix I had told her about during dinner. I was really hoping she would believe that I was inviting her back to my place just to watch the show, since this was really the reason. How disappointed would I have been if she had believed I was asking her to come back to my place to spend the night, but she knew that wasn’t my style.
We drove back to my apartment, listening to loud music and holding hands. During the whole car ride, I could only think about one thing: should I kiss her? This thought took over my brain. She parked the car, maybe I should kiss her now. Walking up to my apartment building, is this a good time? What if I wait too long and miss my chance, what if I don’t wait long enough and scare her off?
It’s a good thing that I had already seen Iliza Schlesinger’s show 4 times because I was not listening at all, but I remembered where and when I was supposed to laugh. During the whole show, I kept looking at her, still asking myself when I should kiss her, and also checking to see if she was laughing at Iliza’s jokes. Because if the girl doesn’t laugh, there’s no reason for me to kiss her since I would never date a girl who didn’t find Iliza Schlesinger funny, sorry not happening.
But she laughed. And she was holding my hand during the whole show, her thumb making little circles on the back of my hand.
And the show ended, and I still had not kissed her. I knew she was about to leave, it was almost midnight at this point. I had to do it soon or I would miss my chance.
“Tess, can I kiss you now?” I asked.
She laughed.
“Of course!”
I leaned in and kissed her, a very soft and quick kiss. I was about to pull away from her when she placed her hand around my waist and pulled me closer to her. My heart melted!
“I’m very happy I met you,” I said.
“Me too,” she added.
She kissed me again before she left, once in the hallway and again before I closed the door. I went to bed smiling like an idiot, feeling like I was living in a dream.
But when I woke up the next day, I felt like something had changed. From the moment I opened my eyes, I knew something was different, like there had been a shift in the space-time continuum. I looked at my phone and a text was waiting for me. A text from Tess:
Hey, I had a great time last night, but I don’t think I’m ready to date anyone. I realized that last night after I left your place. You’re a really great person, but I’m just not ready to date again. I’m sorry.
Reading this, I laughed a humorless laugh. I got up, got the chips and chocolate caramel ice cream from the freezer and went back to bed. That’s what Tinder does to you, it gives you a perfect first date and the next thing you know you’re crying in your bed, eating ice cream for breakfast.
Thank you, Tinder.
True story or fiction?
Leave your answer in the comment section! ;)
Images obtained from
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a9/e1/da/a9e1dab614b9e7ed72fdfb91faf95ac6.jpg
https://acorninmykitchen.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/images_painting03.jpg