So, here we are on another dating story. My last post did well and I can’t believe the amount of people who had the same experience, or related to what had happened.
I wanted to talk today, though, about the main character of this story, Mr D.
I met Mr D on Tinder in January 2018. Okay, I think I swiped thinking someone like that would never swipe back on me. He was attractive, but he also seemed fairly mysterious. Not much in his Tinder bio, so I was clearly rather intrigued as to what this person was like. His pictures weren’t the ‘usual’ type, and he wasn’t using a picture of a dog to try and tempt me. I didn’t think anything would come of it, I mean I wasn’t exactly looking for something on Tinder, nothing like I thought could come out of good old Tinder. I don’t want to give too man details about this person, because then I’m sure plenty of people in my life would catch on… they probably already have. He was smart, handsome and I was really quite interested in this person.
Here is where I have to go back to our first Tinder conversations, absolute cringe. I’m taking time to consider if I go back and look at them… I don’t. His chat up line was questionable, but we’ll skip over that *insert that weirded out eye emoji*. I think it was a feeling I got to actually respond to this message on Tinder, I’d had quite a few matches, and my brain couldn’t be arsed to respond to any of these people. The conversation flowed, it seemed kind of natural.
Admittedly, I didn’t think anything was going to come of it, because I wasn’t looking for anything special, and neither was he. He was charming, said all the right things and tried fairly hard to talk to me with his long paragraphs. Granted, I think he was bored due to his job (but don’t tell him that). He wasn’t in the country for a few weeks, so we spent quite a few weeks before discussing things about each other. I kept on thinking that someone this charming had to have a flaw, I had trust issues with men after a previous ghosting incident…
He suggested we make the move to insta. How exciting a prospect, but also worrying because as a blogger, I was going to judge the hell out of his instagram. And I thoroughly did. I don’t think I even introduced him to my blog for a while, because the blog posts I’d written around January were fairly fierce, and kind of really bitchy… I was a serial subtweeter, but in blog posts. I couldn’t stand insta messages, and frankly, I enjoyed texting way more than dm’s.
We went to Snapchat. His snapchat score was over 56,000. I asked him if he was a player. He told me he wasn’t a player. His snapchat score was clearly high because of the amount of nudes he probably sent. I wasn’t impressed with Mr Player. Nevertheless, I saved him as Southern Player in my phone and continued to talk to him. We texted morning and night, we talked all the time, I was like a woman obsessed.
I sent him a few drunk snapchats, confessed how I thought he was really hot, and sounded like a total mess when I texted him one morning so hungover I thought I would die. I don’t know I managed to keep this guy around, but apparently, I did.
Mr D asked me about my plans for Valentine’s. I told him I didn’t tend to do anything on Valentine’s Day. I’d never celebrated it, even in my previous relationship; I’d probably been weirdly put off when my ex wrote the wrong name on my Valentine’s card. At the time, I was free, but I just could not be one of those cringey people. Overpriced menus, cheesy music, people looking loved up? What if this date went terrible, on Valentine’s Day? It would be ruined…
I gushed about him to my friends, and they skeptically looked at me. They told me to avoid him at all costs due to his job. They looked at me as if I told them I was pregnant. I didn’t see a problem. They told me past experiences girls had had with this type of guy before. To me, he ticked all the boxes; he kind of had everything I’d never really looked for, but thought I’d want one day.
They instilled in me a little bit of fear, but fear just makes things more exciting, right…? Still, I had this mindset he was a serial killer. I’d seen the TV programmes; I’d seen catfish. I had been catfished before. It was a real possibility this guy could be somebody else. Okay, it probably wasn’t because I’d seen snapchats of him and I’d seen pictures of him. Still, my friend told me to text her if I had to make a quick run for it and I wanted a fake family emergency phone call, or he turned out to be an extremely weird person. Is this what people did on a first date? I had never actually been on a first date in my life. Petrified was the word to describe me.
He asked me about Valentine’s again, but this time I had a legitimate excuse. My boss had looked at me one day, laughed and said ‘you’ll have no plans for Valentine’s, will you?’… he was right. I was doomed to work on Valentine’s, and cry at all the cute couples, and know I’d be forever alone.
We arranged to meet for dinner in Manchester the day after Valentine’s. He landed back in the country, and constantly reminded me of the date. I really couldn’t back out of this one. I don’t think he’d let me getaway with ghosting. I had university during the day, so I hurriedly found a new top and shoes when he told me where we’d be going. I was not dressed for this type of fancy ass meal. I wanted to look on point. I dragged my friend round Topshop and found something I would definitely love… didn’t know I’d hate it by the end of the night.
I’d brought my makeup with me, and some little essentials, and I took to the bathroom to make myself look decent. All the while I panicked in my head about my eyebrows, my face, my life in general. Then, I moved to put on the new top I’d bought. It was like trying to accomplish the impossible. It was the worst decision of my life. My friend and I attempted to wrap this thing around me, but it was not working. The material would have to suffocate me, slightly, to make it work. Just what I wanted on a first date.
I panicked like a headless chicken in the toilets. I considered texting him and bailing on the date. What if I breathed too loudly? How was I supposed to eat? What if the top unravelled whilst we sat there, and we just sat in silence? What if we had nothing to say?
What if he didn’t like me?
My friend more or less told me to grow some tits and go. I listened to her and set off for our date. It was a short walk from uni and I turned up near the place, and waited. He didn’t turn up, and I started to believe he’d stood me up. Until he magically texted me he was in the bar. It felt like the longest walk of my life, but I made it in and approached him. He was just what I expected, maybe better. We got a drink and the first couple of minutes were awkward, but the conversation flowed. We talked about everything possible.
We walked into the restaurant, and they asked if we wanted to sit at the bar for a minute whilst they sorted the table. He pulled a chair out and I stared at him for a while, wondering what he was doing. Why was he standing by this chair he’d just pulled out? What was this man doing? I asked if he was sitting there, and he told me it was for me. I felt utterly confused. No one had ever done that for me… it was cute.
Admittedly, my nerves were so high that when we got to the table I had no idea what to eat. I just knew that I needed wine, or gin, or maybe both mixed in together. He didn’t seem nervous in the slightest, and helped to keep things flowing. For my first Tinder date, it seemed like a massive success. We couldn’t stop talking and I had a continuous smile on my face whilst sitting across form this man. In my head, I knew I wanted to see him again, I knew that the date had gone above and beyond any expectations I’d had.
The food we had was incredible, and we finished it off with dessert. I drank a G&T and then wine, so my nerves had definitely gone. Everything about it felt right. I wondered if I tried to fight him for the bill, but he seemed like a take no shit kind of guy, and I knew we’d both argue over paying. He sorted the bill and then suggested we go for a drink.
We headed to The Alchemist and I drank more gin. I wonder if me drinking on dates is a common thing? We talked for a lot longer and enjoyed the time we’d had together. We had a lot to catch up on in each others lives. It was getting late and he’d already mentioned he was staying in Manchester for the night before heading home, and invited me back for a tea. What a smooth guy….
I guess we’ll never know how that night ended, but I can safely say we saw each other again for a second date, and possibly a few more. A real Tinder success! Tune in for the next FierceFeminist Goes Dating blog post…
Love, Rachel x