This world seems to be filled with one Tinder nightmare after another! Take this guy, for example! A complete asshole who clearly knows nothing about how to treat a lady. We teamed up with The Single Society to share all the fabulously bad mishaps the modern dating scene has to offer!
I met Tim, a financial analyst, on Bumble. I was pleasantly surprised by how quickly he cut through the usual monotonous red tape that is texting back and forth and invited me out for an evening that same week.
Upon arrival, I approached Tim, who was sitting at the bar. He immediately stood up to receive me, and I was utterly astonished by the size of this boy man.
My petite frame stands just shy of 5'1, so unlike many women in the online dating community, I am not often concerned with details such as the height of an individual because rarely do I meet a guy who is shorter than me.
To his credit, I didn't ask about his height, and he didn't offer a number that was clearly fabricated at any point in our conversation or on his profile.
Donned in my ballet flat shoes, I stood about 2 and 1/2 inches taller than Tim. Usually, the one to feel particularly dainty next to 99.9% of people I meet, I suddenly felt oddly monstrous towering over this miniature human.
No problem! Maybe he has a few extra inches somewhere else. Think positive!
The waitress showed us to our table, and right away Tim and I got to talking. After sharing the details of how our days at work went we began discussing what TV shows we were looking forward to watching now that the weather was becoming crisper by the day.
"Were you into 'Mad Men'?" He asked.
"That is actually one I couldn't get into for some reason," I replied.
"Strike ONE," Tim said, rather aggressively.
"Strike one? So it's a strike against someone when they don't like the same TV show?"
The waitress came by to take our beverage order and Tim recommended I sample the Sazerac whiskey drink from the signature cocktail menu.
"I am more of a vodka or gin drinker. Not so much into whiskey."
"Oh, noooooo! That's strike TWO," he said fervently.
"OK, so the whole 'strike' thing has got to stop. Putting 'strikes' against people who don't share your opinions on things like liquor and TV shows is pretty stupid."
Tim offered up a pathetic apology and chalked it up to being nervous. I accepted and was prepared to start fresh.
I finished my meal despite the fact that Tim had completely spoiled my appetite. When we exited the building I had every intention of making a beeline for the train to escape the atrocious company I had just endured.
"So, we can grab another drink at this whiskey bar I really like down the street," he said, rather presumptuously. "Although you don't drink whiskey, so it would probably be kind of embarrassing bringing you there and you NOT drink whiskey."
"I'm actually going home," I said. "This was quite possibly the worst first date I've ever had. You are, like…incredibly rude. Are you aware of that?
"Wow! Seems like someone has some anger problems. Hopefully, this isn't strike three!" He responded facetiously.
Oh. Now I'm pissed.
"Your little 'strike' bullshit needs to stop. Considering how short you are you might want to consider a serious personality adjustment."
Tim laughed it off as if I was joking. I ran into the underground solace of the subway. I have never been so happy to get home to my shoebox of a studio apartment.
Tim texted me the next day as if nothing ever happened-
*Hey! I had a great time last night. You have an interesting sense of humor. I'd like to do it again and I guess I can let it slide that you don't like whiskey ;)*
Hey, Tim. You can f*ck right off.
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