Date #4 was assumingly a frequent flyer on Tinder as we had matched every single time I had signed up since I joined beginning of 2014. Tinder and I had an on again-off again relationship. Like Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee. With less Hepatitis C and hopefully less leaked sex-tapes.
Even though I don’t recall ever having a conversation with Date #4 worth remembering, I thought it would be a fantastic opportunity for Tinder to hopefully surprise me. He seemed quite good-looking and looked great in his photos with zero selfies. This was a good sign that he has a life or that he had his tinder perfected by the women in his life (which is also indicates that he’s also been friend-zoned by these women). First picture was him and a friend wearing a black t-shirt and sunglasses. The second photo showed him alone wearing a nice shirt and tie. The third, the same outfit ( let us hope it was the same day as the first photo otherwise he must really love that look). The fourth photo showed him once again, in a shirt, tie and this time a jacket. Bonus! He was next to a friend also wearing a suit and tie and one would hope it was taken a few years ago as he looked younger in this picture than he did in the first three shots (unless I’m about to date Benjamin Button?). He had two more photos which depicted him in the exact same outfits as two, three and four. In three out of six photos, he’s holding a beer. In five out of six photos, he’s wearing the same tie. The last photo had him posed next his friend with his butt pushed out and his friend squatting on him at either at the races or a wedding. A classic photo to show that he has a sense of humour.
Date #4 started off the conversation with a winning opening line.
Date #4: “Hi:)”
Melissa: “We’ve met before”
Date #4: “We’ve matched before. But not met:)
Date #4: “And I’d be happy to change that if you are.”
Melissa: “Ok. Guess you haven’t had much luck”
Date #4: “Define luck?
no I just realise we’ve matched twice now, and have intended to meet, but never did. So would rather cut the mucking around and find out if you’re keen or not!”
Melissa: “Yeah I’m keen”
Date #4: “Cool
Melissa: “For you I could be”
Date #4: “Provocative
We then agreed to meet at Midnight Coffee on Cuba Street at 11am the following day. Surprisingly, I was running 20 minutes late and rescheduled at 10.41am to meet at 11.30am which he was fine with. At 11.42am, I sent him a message saying “I’ve just done the world’s best or worst parallel park – see you soon” and at around 11.49am, I finally arrived. 19 minutes late is bad form and I could tell this was becoming a habit I would struggle to break.
Richie and I arrived at Midnight Coffee to quite a handsome dark young guy sitting down with his gym bag. We realised quite quickly that this establishment wasn’t dog-friendly and I suggested we went down to Dukes to grab a coffee.
When we finally sat down at Dukes, I finally got a decent look at him. He wasn’t bad-looking and definitely would look fantastic with a Dad-bod in years to come. He had nice features, strong dark brows and had a nice smile. For some pathetic reason, I couldn’t overlook the fact that his t-shirt had piles in it. He was also obviously semi-unenthused about Richie, something that I immediately couldn’t understand since he said he liked dogs.
Date #4 was a baby corporate in the big bad world of boring occupations. After about three minutes of conversing with him, I figured out why he was single and it wasn’t because of the piles in his shirt or his inability to be excited around Richie. I mean, I’m not asking for much. Just pat my fucking dog in a way that doesn’t look begrudging.
Richie was, needless to say unenthused about this lacklustre pity pat and refused to associate with Date #4 after that.
Date #4 was a self-confessed bogan who listened to a lot of Rammstein growing up. Perhaps this was the reason why everything he said had such a negative undertone. The struggle was real to converse about anything without it resulting in something negative. He seemed to put a lot of blame on the fact that he was a middle child ( Lulz I’m a middle child too) and seemed to hate his job and was discontented with life.
Best Douche Bag moment of the day went to Date#4 when he made the brilliantly generalized, and sexist remark “Of course, you’re a girl” as a way of explaining why I was so excited about materialistic things.Which obviously meant that every single woman has a tendency towards shiny brand things. I was mortified. I just told him I was looking forward to upgrading my laptop?! The moment was emphasized when he started to go on a tangent on how we work to please other people and that he didn’t see the point in new things and that he just wanted to save money. He even sold his car because he didn’t see the use in it.
It was getting to the point of the conversation where I was starting to feel bad for the guy. Possibly I was being too harsh? Maybe he made one stupid remark generalizing women loving shiny things and I over reacted? When we united over the fact that there was no step by step book and paint by numbers way of dealing with life once you graduate and get a job, I started to really feel like he was deeply unhappy without even knowing he was and will be forever unsatisfied with life. When I tried to suggest that he needed to do things to make him happy, he made the comment that I just work hard to show others that I’m working hard.
SRSLY?
It reached crunch time during the date where I was starting to become genuinely offended by his incorrect psycho-analysis of me. I didn’t tell him that I found him to be an angry anti-feminist who hates shiny things, with piles on his shitty t-shirt but I did lie and say that I had to do other things in the afternoon (like stare at a blank space on my ceiling memorizing the lyrics to Gangster’s Paradise) and wrapped up the date. I offered him a ride to wherever he was going which he thankfully declined and got a bonus awkward hug to really seal the deal. He was off to the gym to get the best value for money out of his bus fare and I was off to look at shiny things and to show people how hard I work.
Did I ever hear from him again? Well, 22 minutes after we parted ways, Date #4 send me a message on Tinder “Hey was nice to meet you – sorry I meant to ask for your number if that’s cool? :)”
Needless to say, we never spoke again.
