Date #13 Date with another Beard and his dog

When I first started this Tinder challenge, I had this overwhelming desire to go on a date with a Wellington Hipster. Big life goals, I know and so hard to find in Wellington! Where would I even find one? Little Beer Quarter? Golding’s? Dukes Carvell?

Because I’m lazy and a massive loser, its unlikely you’ll ever catch me at Meow listening to some unknown band having a good time unless I was so drunk that I thought I was listening to Kanye West. This is said with some conviction because I a) have been so drunk at Meow that I thought I was at a Kanye West concert and b) have been semi-drunk and been to an actual Kanye West concert.

“I fucked a bitch, go and find another bitch and I never trust a bitch” – Kanye West
See, we actually went to a Kanye West concert

I’m trashy yes, but at least I admit it. I haven’t spent the last eight years with cleavage spilling out of my Lippy dress and wearing heels I can’t walk in from Wild Pair to suggest that I was anything out of the ordinary. I own like three black “2 for $30 cardigans” from Glassons for fucks sake.

Upon first impressions and close inspections, Date #13 was by all sense of the word: a Wellington hipster. They’re even more hipster if they deny it.  He had dark hair, brooding eyes and a big fucking beard. Oh baby. I really feel like his Tinder photos need step-by-step analysis to ensure we’re all on the same page with what hipsters look like:

  • 1st photo: Front angle, close up of his beard taking up 40% of the camera real estate. Nailed it.
  • 2nd photo: Him wearing a denim shirt and a striped t-shirt taking a photo of the person taking his photo. Artistic… I think I get it?
  • 3rd photo: Him and a friend wearing Fay-Bans all suited up with a few buttons off his shirt. Sultry.
  • 4th photo: Him wearing a plaid shirt and blazer at a premiere of a New Zealand film. So cultured. I can’t even deal.
  • 5th photo: Him against a Subaru Leagacy on the beach. Hipster on beach?
  • 6th photo: (Seriously, can anyone even find six good photos of themselves? ) Him holding his surfboard, on a beach walking towards the camera. Hipster on surfboard?

There was something attractive about him that I couldn’t place at the time (I think its because he looks like a younger, hipster version of my Dad). He wasn’t my usual type of blonde hair, blue eyes and Dad-bods – he was tall, dark and handsome. I was borderline intimidated and didn’t want to make the first move because, like I said in my previous post, I can play a long game because I’m crazy and date 29 other people.

I’ll facebook stalk the shit out of you before you even say Hi!

Then Date#13 uploaded a moment. Of him and his dog.

No caption needed

All attempts to have played it cool were immediately thrown out the window. I LOVE guys who have dogs, I literally can’t even deal.  I used to pretend to get jealous when my dog’s baby daddy held his leash and girls would give him the eye. I’d jokingly say in a cute way, “I’m kidding” but really…

How many jokes do I need to make about being a crazy psycho bitch before people belive me?

I felt like I had landed the Tinder jackpot by matching this babin’ hipster who had a small fluffy dog. I couldn’t wait until we moved in together, got married and our dogs became best friends. Even though I was freaking out, I tried to play it cool and talk dog:

Me: “Your dog?”

Date#13: “Yep. That’s my little man!”

Me:”My dog is the second one in photos.

Date#13: “Cute. What breed is he/she? Name?”

Me: “Italian Greyhound Cross. Richie McPaw.

Date #13: “That is amazing.

We started going backwards and forwards on this chat for a wee bit talking dogs and it took five responses for Date #13 to suggest we get our dogs together. Such a cheap line, I fell for it, hard. It took two days for Date #13 to get my number and we vaguely aimed for a dog walk on our first free weekend together.

We met the following weekend, I’d immediately texted him after I was full of brunch with White Jay-Z. Date #13 was chilled and free after his shower, though he warned me he was feeling pretty shady, had gotten locked out of his flat the night before and lost his wallet. God, hipsters are so unorganised. I guess that settled who was whipping out their Westpac Debit Plus card to pay for the first date.

We organised to meet up on the waterfront near Te Papa. I had Richie and he had his little pooch too. It was a windy afternoon and I was pretty sure I was ill-dressed for the cloudy weather.

A midriff polka dot shirt with a short skirt?

Date #13 was immediately recognisable. He even walked like a hipster and kind of scuffled his way towards me in a semi-smooth way, wearing flip-flops, camel-coloured pants and a plaid shirt. He was dressed part hipster crossed with an arborist armed with a tiny fluffy dog (he did warn me that he was from the Wairarapa).

The conversation was casual and free flowing from the get-go. He was friendly and either relaxed or incredibly hung-over. I was surprised there was even an injection of personality since his face was 50% beard but he was pretty animated with his eyes and had a strong brow game.

He looked like this, without the hair.

The conversation was kept pretty light as we got coffees. Richie was yet to hump his smaller new best friend and they happily co-existed walking together. Being the responsible dog-owner that I am, I usually don’t mind having to pick up faecal matter especially when it comes from a six kilo dog, but timing is everything. Richie held our little dog-squad up and I picked up his tiny poo with two fingers and walked 10 metres in the opposite direction to put it in a bin. When I returned, Date #13 politely pointed out that there was a bin right in front of us.

Next time I throw it

We sat down at Kaffee Eis and I was paying so much attention to his dog since he (the pup)  was so chilled and we discussed dog-lyfe, the balance of parenting and having a social life. Date #13 had already done some travelling overseas in his early 20’s and we had a few connections through a marketing agency that we had both done some work through. Half-way through the coffee, I was already forgetting that this was the first time we had ever met since there was very little filter to our conversation.

The biggest, burliest man came over during our coffee and I (assuming because Richie is kind of a big deal) that he was wanting to pat my dog. But no, the big, burly man was wanting to pat the tiny dog. I literally couldn’t believe it and Date#13 was not bothered by the attention his dog was lapping up.

After about an hour the weather started to turn, it kind of stunted the date and I had to eventually get home to be taken out to dinner by a previous conquest. He suggested having a beer at Black Dog as it was dog friendly and I was having a great time with this Hipster.

This is when the conversation got deep. I admitted to him about my 30 Day Tinder challenge and he had the chilled out “you do you” attitude and didn’t seem to mind that I was going to write about him. This then escalated to a woman’s right to her own sexuality and doing whatever the fuck they wanted. He was clearly a feminist. He spoke about his love for his younger sisters and how annoying it was when guys walk past him and call his dog a ‘faggot dog’ since it’s not the dog who can respond. “He’s defenceless! He can’t stick up for himself!”. [ Edit: I found out six months later when I met some people who he used to live with and read this particular post, they enquired who his sisters were as they were under the impression he was an only child. Decided not to probe this any further as surely people don’t lie about having siblings and he had previously confirmed that they were only ‘half’ when I asked him. The mind boggles.]

Urgh, I was already crushing on Date#13 and dreading going on another date with a previous conquest in a few hours (Which I can comfortably say, since previous conquest has since deleted me on Facebook because I’ve been dating other guys and writing about it). I had this feeling though that because I was too casual and open about my Tinder situation, I felt like I had immediately got the dreaded friend-zone. I didn’t really mind all that much, it was too early in the game to get caught up in one guy. I guess though, that I just wanted to marry this feminist Hipster and have 10,000 of his babies. Or in other words, have sex with him.

Date #12 Brunch with Harry Potter

After three Tinder dates and one Silver Fox brief affair I was hung over on the Friday and sick of my own voice.

Date #12 and I talked back in early May before I deleted Tinder to be with da1 (Da1 who broke it off after 13 or so days. I was cut deep). His banter was so good that my flatmate Mon and I nicknamed him “Harry Potter” over drinks one night when this blog was in the ‘planning stages’. When we first started chatting I asked him to tell me something about himself and he said something along the lines like this:

“Umm… well. I grew up with my Aunt and Uncle since I was little. It was okay, except sometimes my cousin used to bully me and was kinda mean. Then when I was 11, a huge man came to my house on his motorbike and told me I was a wizard. Life’s been pretty good since then.”

Possibly it was because I read this over a few glasses of wine, but at the time and to this day I found this hilarious. On the banter scale, it was a 10.

When you’re dealing with guys on Tinder with shit banter, they’re either saying something too far out of left field as though they’re trying to be different, or something too basic that it doesn’t even warrant a reply. Date #12 was the Goldilocks of Tinder chat and it seemed like there was a lot of prospects especially if it was going to be slightly dry and referencing Harry Potter at any point. Which made me curious and determined to meet him…

Turns out Date #12 was the most hard to get, cynical guy I’ve ever talked to on Tinder. It was as though he joined Tinder, knowing instantly that he would regret it and scathing everytime he got a notification from someone on there. He seemed like the type that was nice, but overly picky and hesitant that he was going to get cat-fished every time. Later I found out, that he only felt that way about meeting me.

He was reading way too much into my initial bio on Tinder which I had something along the lines of “I have ulterior motives as to why I’m here”. (Edit: I’m such a wanker for writing that as my Tinder bio.) I also once posted a snap story asking who wanted to brunch with me, after organising with Harry Potter, to have brunch the following day. I could almost forgive him for giving me the hot and cold vibes since upon reflection, I was sounding suspicious by agreeing to brunch, then publicising that I needed another brunch date for a different day. Smooth.

Regardless of his hesitant attitude towards meeting me, part of my crazy bitch attribute is that I can play a long game if required (while maintaining 30 others). Since we had arranged to meet for brunch the week before and had I not bailed to brunch with my best friend, then Date #12 would have been Date #3. Over the following week plans were made then abandoned  probably due to a combination of his catfish fear and being busy with life until the following Saturday which is when we finally met. I was too exhausted to entertain on the Friday after four dates on the Thursday and could afford to skip a day since I had already done 11 dates in the last week. I also hate Friday night dates. It leads to drinking and then, if one isn’t careful, leads to something more.

Date #12 and I agreed to meet up at PreFab. In my brunch-obsessed mind PreFab is amazing. The creamy mushrooms are incredible, the portion sizes are good but not huge and the price reflects this. I like to use the bathroom every time I go there solely to use their Aesop hand wash and I genuinely like the easy layout of their café. The waitresses wear brightly coloured lipsticks and the food comes out quickly. Above all , it’s dog-friendly and Richie loves to socialise on a Saturday morning.

Richie and I arrived, strangely to time and we were slightly early so we found a spot outside before Date#12 arrived. I was wearing knee-high socks with a black skirt and a polka-dot top that showed far too much cleavage. It was kind of cold that day and my nipples did not appreciate my choice of outfit.

First impressions of Date #12 was that he was as tall as I expected (5ft 8ish) but more muscular than I expected. None of his photos showed him smiling and one was even blurry. He was wearing the whitest t-shirt I’ve ever seen (“Sorry I’m five minutes late, was picking up a new white t-shirt from AS Colour”) with a Nike jacket and a snapback cap. He dressed like a Caucasian Jay-Z, where he could afford to dress well but still wanted to look he had street-cred. His Country Road socks are testament to this.

High-quality socks are my jam!

The conversation was pretty light-hearted and not overly awkward. He wasn’t as open as I and seemed pretty guarded but was friendly and open-minded. He was clearly really curious about what I was doing on Tinder soliciting boys for brunch, so I was pretty quick to confess that although I was genuine, he was part of some social experiment. He took it pretty well, although he asked whether there was cameras around and I advised that this was just a low-budget blog.

One of the things about Date #12 was that his Tinder line was his occupation (Who does this?!) which I won’t reveal in this blog but he works for a film studio that takes its name from an ugly insect. He was really down to earth but it was clear that he worked hard and I assumed he was good at what he did. He moved to Wellington a year ago for work and was originally from Auckland.

Richie took a liking to Date #12 and was rather happy to sit on his lap. I cannot fathom how forward Richie is sometimes with strangers, I haven’t taught him the importance of stranger danger. It took a weird turn when out of the blue, near the end of the conversation, Date #12 asked me to look the other way since he had cramp so that he could pull a face and deal with it. So naturally I looked back. The situation then went as follows:

Ow!
me, silently horrified
la la la la

Despite this weird seven second moment, the date wasn’t a disaster. I asked if he could look after Richie whilst I went to the bathroom to wash my hands and then went and paid the bill,  even though this guy ordered twice the amount of eggs and that costs like $10 extra “How many eggs? Two? Okay, can I please have four?”  and because I’m a strong independent woman.

Ladies and Gentleman, I paid on the first date

When I got back to the table, he was like “Urgh, you paid” and part of the reason why I did was because this challenge wasn’t about getting free food or wined and dined and I cared enough to ensure that he didn’t leave with that impression. Also, I have an this unreasonable phobia of split payment on a date.

Date #12 walked me to my car after the date and refused my offer to drive him to his car afterwards. It was kinda mega awkward saying “Bye!” *awkward hug* to then watch him walk down the street afterwards back where we came from. Although the date went well, I got the most doubting text that night from him.

Date #12: “Thanks for brunch today, I actually had a nice time.

Me: “Should I be worried about that “actually” bit?”

Date #12: “Haha! The “actually” was incase it didn’t come across that way. If you’re interested though, I think we should “probably” do it again.”

Date #9 Shortest Lunch ever with a Short guy

This date that I’m about to describe was the first to occur during a lunch break. Date #9 was one of my first matches during this Tinderventure and I gave him very little information at the beginning. Cue my shit chat, from the beginning:

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He suggested that before our first date that we should exchange three things about ourselves, two true facts and one lie and the other had to guess which one was the lie. I would usually save my Tinder chats for deep into the night since during the day I would be working late and in the evenings I’d be full on with my other job. My ideal Tinder chat time was 9.30pm, which obviously suited Date #9 as well, except his bedtime was around 10pm. This was fine by me since his chat wasn’t good enough to go on longer. He started sprouted off random words to get my attention since I wasn’t enthused by a lot of what he had to say. He said “Bubbles! Hah” and I responded with “How tall are you?” to which he responded with “Short yo! Like 5ft.6 :)”

Well, that settled any future long term plans. There was no way I would ever get accidentally pregnant to him.

Date #9 continued with the weird chat, which upon looking over it now for the content of this blog makes me wonder why I met up with him in the first place. He said “Ah yeh! :D” which really fucking grinded me.

FullSizeRender (4

As above, we agreed to meet during lunch time on the Thursday following the pashfest with the Irish guy in my Barina. 12.30pm, at Nikau Cafe. See ya there bubbles! Ah yeh!

He then asked if I had met anyone off Tinder before. I said “A few.”I was clearly lying. Unless he was referring to simply, the last few days in which case I was in the clear. I asked if he was strange. His answer was relatively reasonable;

“Ha I hope not but I might be depending on what your perception of what’s strange 😛 You’ll have to make up your own mind. :D”

I was around 6-7 minutes late to which Date#9 prompted to text me to say “I’m inside standing around like a dork lol”

Lol?

LOL?

Why did I even turn up to this date with a guy who says LOL? I literally can’t even fathom. When I got there, I saw him – he was clearly nailing his Tinder photos with the four up-close face shots as he was incredibly short when I got there. He wasn’t as bad Danny Devito, but he was about the height of Daniel Radcliffe who peaks at 5ft 5. It didn’t help that it looked like he was wearing skater shoes too and wide legged pants to make him look tall. He really dressed up.

For a Date in 2002

Not as bad as Sisquo was in 2002, but you get the idea.

I wish I could say that he really lifted me back up with his chat but unfortunately, that was a let down too. He was sweet but was awkward and his interactions with everyone we encountered – the waitress at the cafe for example just went to show that social interactions just weren’t his thing. It was so bad, that I feel guilty admitting that I figured this out in the first three minutes and the situation even made me feel awkward.

Date #9 still lived at home, with his Mum in the Greater Wellington region.

Me: “Have you ever flatted”

Date #9: “Um… nah”

Me: “Did you ever wish you were flatting?”

Date #9: “Err, nah its just my Mum and I”

Me: “Oh cool! I wish my Mum and I still lived in the same city… you must be saving so much money living at home all this time”

Date #9: “Erm yeh I’m saving for a house”

Me: “Cool! Where do you want to live”

Date #9: “Probably will buy in *Inserts Greater Wellington suburb that his Mum currently lives in*”

Me: “Cool! Have you been travelling?”

Date #9 “Ahh, nah I’ve been to Australia when I was a kid but nothing since then”

Oh fuck. See, I tried. I really did. I mean, it wasn’t the most awkward thing I’ve ever done (as I once tried to clean my dog’s anal glands after watching a Youtube video to save on vet costs) but it was genuinely quite bad. So bad that I offered to pay for the drinks in order to round the date up. So bad that I then faked a text message from my boss saying I needed to follow something up. It was so bad that he awkwardly told me his Dad had passed away two years ago.

How do I react to this?

Date #9 texted me two hours later, saying “Thanks for the fun lunch date! :D”

He then texted me the next day saying “Coffeeeeeeee next week! :D”

He then texted me the next day and said “Or zoo! Ha 🙂 do you work weekends?”

I responded with “I went to the zoo over the weekend”

He said “Aww okay”

The following week he sent me a text saying that he saw the coffee place I liked.

I never responded again.