J: 0 to 100 Real Quick

Context: I started talking to ‘Clinger,’ an attractive blonde with a strange penchant for sunglasses, on Tinder one Sunday. He said he “had a good feeling” about me, so we transitioned to text fairly quickly.

Over my many years (months) (…weeks) of Tinder dating, I have honed the craft of determining whether a man is talking to me because he is interested in my sparkling personality or the fact that I am a female and can perform certain unspeakable acts to satisfy his “urges” (as deemed by a recent Uber driver. Why were we talking about sex with an Uber driver? Unsure. Did I still give him 5 stars? Yes, because he did not take us to an unknown location and sell us into the Southeast Asian sex trade. How did I get on this topic?).

This distinction usually makes itself clear in the first few minutes of interaction. A few examples:

  • Naked man, covering his package with a handwritten sign reading “Swipe right for a good time” (this is real life)
  • Bio reading “KCCO” – I don’t actually know what this means, and the last time I talked to my mom she told me “The Google is broken,”* so I am unable to look it up. All I know is that a lot of guys have it in their bio and a lot of guys like sex so this must be some sort of Kama Sutra** shit
  • First line: “I luv bad bitchz thats mi fuckn problemmmm” in which case I initiate the hookup because I can’t even pretend to resist the attraction that sentence instills

*Mom just called to let me know that The Google is not, in fact, broken; rather, she was using the Facebook status mechanism as a search bar of sorts. In other news, my mother’s entire friend circle now knows that she is looking up the legality of purchasing a pet emu.
**Using The Google, I just looked this up and determined that it stands for “Keep Calm and Chive On” which is DEFINITELY a sex position.

Back to Clinger. We were trying to set up a time to meet up, and when I received the following messages, I began to question his intentions.

“Mitigate stress”? Sounds like a romp in the sack to me


Okay, sir, “a little while” on a few days to “mitigate stress”? What kinda wool are you trying to pull over my eyes? That. Means. Sex. Nope, not me, nyet. I’m reading right between those well-spaced Tinder lines. After careful consideration and one or four pieces of banana bread (homemade and better than sex IMO) I responded with the above. He came (hehe, came) back VERY quickly:


He said coffee and dogs. I’m in. (And a ridiculously easy target if that’s all it takes)

We continued our conversation, all normal and good and haha work, hiking, life!! Puppies! Then he lays this request on me:

image3 (1)

He comes back and says that just because I’m in bed doesn’t mean I can’t send a selfie. If this poor, deluded soul thinks that I sleep in a sexy, lacy nightie, then hahahahaha. I’m all retainers and giant tshirts, baby. Instead, I send him a saved snapchat from the prior Saturday. He sends me a picture that looks approximately NOTHING like his Tinder pics. The sunglasses were on for a reason. At this point I’m like “Not dating material, but I will allow him to buy me things” so I ask him how tall he is.

5’9. Gulp. Cringe. Grimace. How do I say “you’re shorter than me so I don’t like you” without sounding like an asshole? And, more importantly, why do I care about not sounding like an asshole when I’ve never met the guy? I need to work on my mean skills. Maybe I’ll tell L that her skirt is ugly this week, or knock someone’s coffee out of their hands, or send a text that doesn’t end in an enthusiastic exclamation point. Yeah, that’ll show ’em.

So, I respond with “a lot of guys are shorter than me” (No exclamation point! Kill ’em), and then I get this:

Convo 1

He used the wrong form of “you’re” and I’m still upset about it


Woah. Woah? “Woooooaaaahhhh” – Crush the Sea Turtle.

Drive several hours to my college town to come see me? When we haven’t even met yet?

Have sweet dreams about me? When we HAVEN’T EVEN MET YET?

Expect me, the (newly) meanest person ever, to say goodnight? WHEN I HAVEN’T MET YOU?

Bye, Clinger.


Posted in J

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