The trials and tribulations of dating in New York is a never-ending storybook of awkward and hilarious. Together with The Single Society, we bring you some of those stories from real women in NYC in their attempt to navigate their way through finding love in the digital era. We embrace the good, the bad, and the downright ugly of modern dating, but also get some laughs along the way. So pull up a chair, grab a glass of wine, and enjoy this woeful tale of dating debauchery.
After realizing that I was officially the last of my friends still on the market I decided it was time to bite the bullet and join the masses on the dating apps.
Shortly after downloading Tinder, I matched with Thomas. Thomas was a stately looking gentleman with piercing green and a slight 'California casual' flair.
Thomas mentioned he was new to my area, and I was more than obliged to show him around. We discussed our mutual obsession with cozy Irish pubs and a friendly game of pool, so I suggested we meet at a place not far from my apartment for some beer and billiards.
That evening I arrived at the bar to meet Thomas, and though he was every bit as handsome as his Tinder pictures he was dressed like a complete slob. Typically I find and unkempt beard rather sexy and rugged, but the unwashed t-shirt, tattered hoodie, and shredded denim had him looking worse for wear.
It also smelled as if he hasn't showered in several days.
I put forth my best effort not to judge the man simply by his clothing, and we settled into a booth to grab some much needed social lubrication.
"So what part of the city do you live in again?" I asked, attempting to kick off the conversation.
"Oh, I'm sort of right outside," he replied rather vaguely.
After inquiring further about his residential whereabouts he reluctantly admitted that he was living in a recently purchased minivan.
"Interesting," I said, somewhat flabbergasted. "So are you looking for a place? You can't live in a van with winter coming up…Can you?"
Thomas went on to explain that though he had a lucrative job and was capable, he was completely against paying the astronomical amounts of rent that NYC and the surrounding areas commanded. He was perfectly content showering weekly at the truck stop in Walmart and washing what little clothing he owned on a bi-monthly basis.
Though this lifestyle, in particular, would certainly not work for a high-maintenance brat woman such as myself, I am quite fascinated by the logistics of it all, so I sipped my Pilsner as I peppered him with questions about his 'van life'.
Thomas excused himself to use the facilities.
When he exited the men's room he scurried back to our booth with a suspicious grin on his face.
"Here, can you stuff these into your purse? I'm running low, and they have a ton in there."
I looked down at what Thomas was pushing to me under the table and saw two rolls of toilet paper.
I assured him that there was no way I could (or would) fit them into my pocketbook, so he concealed them in the deep pockets of his hoodie.
"There is a grocery store around the corner where you can pick some up," I suggested (clearly, the was pre-pandemic).
"Ehh. Would rather not spend the money," he said.
I began walking as briskly as possible back to my apartment while Thomas continued rambling about God knows what.
As we approached my building he pulled me in for a hug, to which I awkwardly reciprocated.
"Can I ask you a question?" he said. "I would seriously be indebted to you forever if you would let me jump in your shower real quick."
I told him I would love to help, but unfortunately, he would have to head back to Walmart as I am not in the business of letting men I just met on the Internet shower in my apartment.
Worst Tinder date ever.
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