Bumbler and Something Called Coffee Meets Bagel

I had the most perfect date last night. He was tall we talked about our shared love of dogs, travel and Game of Thrones. We sipped on wine and ate pasta just like in Lady and the Tramp. It was a 10/10 evening; he even texted me this morning and wished me a good day!

Nah I am just kiddin’

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Dating in 2017 is rough, man. It’s hard out here in the streets.

Let’s recap the dating sites and my quest to find a tall drink of water.

Bumble

Bumble has proven to be the best site for the most attractive men; however, said attractive men never respond and it’s exhausting to keep writing witty messages to men who don’t respond.

Tinder

Oh, my.

I just…Tinder can be best described through descriptive story telling. Once I swipe right to someone, I usually am swiping purely based on appearance;

mostly because they don’t write anything about themselves, but if I am being completely honest, a lady has needs; however, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be treated like a lady.

So, I swipe right, and BAM! I am matched with a man, I chat him something Jess like, and then without further adieu, I get a text with something like “Hey sexy girl, send me a picture of your  _______.” I will let you include

 

whatever lady naughty bits you would like. Now, I could just ignore the guy OR I could just flirt and mess with him. I chose the latter. So, after flirting for awhile, I sent him a picture of my dogs naughty bits…right, because THAT is hilarious.

On my Tinder profile I have both pictures of me with short hair and long hair. I don’t think it’s a big deal. It’s fucking hair. I digress. One of MPDs finest chatted me and was all, “Hey girl…blah, blah” and then I called him out on something, then he was like “do you have short hair or long hair?” I wouldn’t tell him because I wanted to know why it was

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a big deal and he said ” I don’t know which one is you in your pictures?” DUUUUUDE….you must not be THAT good at your job. There is one constant face in ALL the pictures, and the only other person in those pictures has blonde hair, or it’s my dog. I mean, it’s not like I gained  200 pounds and now I identify as a man. Grow up Peter Pan!

I did start talking to a fellow; he told me that he had women ask him to pay their student loan debt off. I was kind of taken aback by the situation. Then I thought about it…well, you do advertise that you live in a BIG house, have a winter and summer car, boat and all this other crap. You attract those women. He ‘ghosted’ me. I was sad I didn’t have time to ask him to pay my student loan debt off.

I think I have 21 matches in my Tinder queue; NOT 1 has asked me out on a date. Shame.

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Is too much as to ask a lady out? Treat her to a glass of whiskey and a god damn taco?!

Coffee Meets Bagel 

Yeah…I have no idea; apparently I have bagels waiting.

Conclusion

These swipey apps are seriously the worst, but they’re kind of addicting. I find myself judging people based on, well, teeth. If a man doesn’t have good dental hygiene, does a man have good personal hygiene? I feel as though a man with bad oral health wears socks with sandals…

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You know what’s a good show? You’re the Worst. I need to go to more weddings.

 

Captain America

After my date with Peter (not his real name…again, protecting peoples identity), I had a bit of a mental breakdown. Peter actually wasn’t a bad date; he was well educated, short, bald…but, whatever, he had nice teeth. I think the part that threw me a little off was that he asked me, three times…in a row…if I was going to grow out my hair.

“Are you going to grow back out your hair?”

“No, I like it short”

“Oh, but, are you going to like…grow it back out?”

“No, it’s easier to take care of short”

“That’s cool, so is it going to get longer?”

Shorthair

…I had to take a slight pause before I responded so I didn’t sound like an asshole…

“Peter, are you going to grow back out your hair?” (winks with both eyes, take a sip of my drink with a smirk on my face)

“Touche, Jess, Touche”

I should have asked him if he was going to grow six inches taller.

I’ll admit, I drove him back to his car after our date, we made out, and it was awkward. He was wearing a hat, you know, to cover his bald head, and it kept hitting my forehead. I just kept saying to myself, “kiss me like you mean it, dammit!” dtrump

He asked me to text him when I got home which was sweet, and I did, but I didn’t text him back after he had texted me in the days following.

After my dates the last few weeks I really started to miss Jake. I think that my broken heart is not fully healed and going out with these short, sub-par guys only opened the wound. Like when you pick at a scab because you’re bored? So, what does one do? Well, go on another date, naturally.

I cancelled my Tinder account because that site is a terrible place for women and for men looking to meet and just have a relaxing, fun night…sans doin it with opposite sex. I kept my match.com account open for funsies even though I was hesitant. Anyway, Thursday night I was perusing through my matches and an attractive red headed fellow came through.  He reminded me of Tormund Giantsbane from Game of Thrones. How neat is that? I want someone to look at me the way Tormund looks at Brienne.

I digress.

I messaged Jordan on Friday and he messaged back. Usually the good looking ones don’t message back, so I was a bit surprised. After talking and exchanging phone numbers we decided to meet on a Saturday night. Which is weird, right? I went with it because I had no plans.

It was a hot Minnesota day, I played with Izzy and was reading ‘The Buddha Walks Into a Bar…a Guide to Life for a New Generation’ – Lodro Rinzler. It’s a good read. I recommend. Then I watched ‘A Few Good Men’ “You cant handle the truth! Son we live in a world that has walls, and those have to be guarded by men with guns. Whose gonna do it you, you lieutenant Weinberg?” LOVE THAT MOVIE.

Anyway…

Jordan picked the place, a bar on the Mississippi in Inver Grove Heights. A little questionable because IGH always smells like pig feet but I agreed. I threw on a pair of white pants and a blue blouse, tousled the hair and threw on a pair of sandals. Spritzed myself with some delicious smelling Flower Bomb, applied some Kylie lip gloss and was out the door.

When I arrived at the destination I had a bit of a flash back because we were at my parents old marina where they docked their first boat. The marina really hasn’t changed in 15 years so the nostalgia of it was pleasant.

I waited for Jordan outside and I saw him walk up. He was about, oh 20 pounds heavier than his pictures. Which is fine but he also had two sleeves of tattoos; also fine, but you should probably denote that on your profile, because he only posted a picture of one arm with a tattoo on his shoulder.

He was wearing a black t-shirt, shorts and chucks. All fine. He was tall and had nice teeth, so I was good. We sat outside and service was sloooooooow. He ordered some kind of beer the lady ordered whiskey. He went on to tell me that was a special agent for Homeland Security. HELL YEAH! Ding, ding…we have a winner!

homeland

He was really awesome. He protected children from ass hole stalkers who took advantage of them on the internet…GO JORDAN! We sat, drank, ate nachos and talked for about four hours. Yes, I did talk about Jake and yes I did cry. This is why you don’t bring up the Ex-files on the first date.

I am not sure if we had ‘too’ long of a first date, but I have not heard from Jordan since. Too bad really. He was cool and tall…and fucking awesome.

You win some, you lose some.

JV

 

 

The Tinder Experince

Tinder as defined by Urban Dictionary A dating app in which 95% of the guys are looking for casual sex or nudes to jack off to, and 95% of the girls are either looking for bae or just want to make friends…resulting in pretty much consistent disappointment and frustration for both parties.

The Scene: The Happy Gnome

The potential Suitor: A short and little man named..well, we will just call him Tim (to protect his identity).

Tinder is…aggressive. That’s about as good as any word to use. Why did I join? For casual sex, duh. Just kidding. I joined to meet people and meet people I have; enter Tim.

After swiping left on about 100 different men either having a selfie with a large fish or a selfie with a small fish, I came across an attractive gentleman and swiped right. Being new to the Tinder world, I didn’t realize that if the other person swiped right to me, it would bring up this fancy black screen saying “YAY! You’ve been matched!” Then you can talk with said person right away.itsamatch

So, after swiping, talking and exchanging phone numbers, Tim and I decided on happy hour. He said he lived in St. Paul and loved going to the neighborhood bars, so I named off a few local places; for example, The Muddy Pig, and then he seemed confused…”Where is that”? COME ON MAN! Don’t you live in St. Paul? Then I suggested Happy Gnome, which I am still not positive he knew where that was either, but Gnome was the agreed upon place.

I arrived about 15 minutes early because I like to sit, sip on a beverage (Negroni), neurotically think about what my date will look like; will he be short, will he have tiny t-rex hands, will he be wearing socks with sandals, will he have nice teeth? You know, the usual stuff. I also like to sit and stealthy stare at all the gentlemen walking up.

Tim arrived right on time, which was nice, he gave me hug and sat down. Right away I knew it wasn’t going to work. He was short and small. I mean, one of my thighs is bigger than his waist. Here’s the deal, I am 5’8 and I am busty, so I need a man who is taller and has some meat on his bones. I like when a man can grab me and wrap me around in his arms…could Tim do that? No. Could I do that to him? Yes.

Anyway, sitting at Happy Gnome he ordered a fruity cocktail pink drink…no judgement (insert sarcasm) and we had conversation on something, I really don’t remember. Then for whatever reason, we decided to walk down to WA Frost (another bar a resident St. Paulian didn’t know), and he ordered another fruity cocktail and the lady (me) ordered a Jameson on the rocks, and the bartender poured me about a five finger pour, so I knew I was either going to have eat dinner with this guy or call my mother to come and get me.

We started talking about Game of Thrones which is something I could talk about for hours. I then asked if he liked Dexter and he said no… and then I was just too shocked to even continue talking to him, but I had this huge glass of whiskey, so I had to continue on….anyway, then he chugged his drink and checked his phone and said “I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to get back to work.” I gave him the side eye stare and then started fake crying and said, “what am I, a boring date?” Sideeye The bartender was laughing and after I paid the bill, (yes, I paid the bill because, he was too busy on his phone) Tim tried slipping me a $20, I was like “dude, don’t worry about it”. Just a little advice, if a lady has an almost FULL glass of whisky in front of her, DO NOT rush a lady! I mean…really.

Shorty caught up to me and was all “wait, you didn’t finish your drink do you want to go to my place and grill?” “What? You just said you needed to go back to work” Also, no I do not want to go to your house…I just met you. What do I look like? A lady of the night? Grill? Is this code for Doin It?

A few things I learned.

  1. I hate being rushed. HATE IT more than anything. I also hate leaving whiskey at a bar that I did not get to finish…
  2. The average height of a female in the US is 5’4 and the average height of a male is 5’9…soooooo…I have isolated the problem there.
  3. People annoy me and I don’t think I am ready to date yet.

Update – because I know I have so many devout followers.

I had a second date with another short man from Tinder. It went better than the first date; however, I am now off of Tinder…so, if that gives any inclination as to how well it really went, there you go.

Where are all the tall men at?!

 

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