Offence in Reverse

I made the monumentally stupid decision to rejoin Tinder just before the new year. This idiotic decision was wholly prompted by a pal, who was having a riot swiping on the app. So in a misguided attempt to try my luck at dating once again, *sigh* I downloaded Tinder again.

This time however I knew better than to leave my Instagram account public. I had turned it to private a few months ago, and boy did that save my goat. Over the course of one night, I had 44 requests to follow me thereafter, and 14 requests to message. I was overwhelmed to say the least, but the worst was yet to come.

I logged into my email and saw a connection request for LinkedIn. Now, I am not picky about the people I add on there. Mostly professional requests in any case. I got into a discussion with the new connection, and he wanted to talk about some content for his company. Fair enough I thought; this sort of thing is fairly common.

We spoke later in the day, about the kind of content his company was looking for. The whole thing appeared to be vague in his mind (not uncommon if the idea of content marketing is nascent) and he kept swivelling back and forth between various points. I realised that the conversation was going nowhere, so I proceeded to wind down the call, stymieing all efforts of a meeting. The last gasp of an effort though was still there: “So when can we meet?” Sigh.

But, the creme de la creme of asshats today was on Facebook. Now, I don’t know how the dude found me on Facebook by just my first name, but hooboy was he weird.

He sent me a message which was ordinary enough, and not in the least offensive. So I wasn’t creeped out, but his message implied that I knew him from somewhere. Thus, I allowed the message, and replied, asking him whether we had met (and I had forgotten).

He said that we had a friend in common. I asked who. He named someone I didn’t know. I said that maybe he had contacted the wrong person? And then..

He flipped his lid.

“Do you think it is so easy for me to message you?” – I never hinted at the ease or difficulty of this at all!
“I asked you for Taj (sic: coffee at Taj), keeping safety in mind.” – Ok?
“You didn’t even consider my invitation!” – Obviously. You’re a stranger off the Internet.
“Trust me you would not have regretted it.” – Whoa, boy. Calm down.
“I will NEVER message you again!” – Um, ok?

He got offended WITH ME. Why? Because I refused to go out with a total stranger for a coffee date, based solely on his stated “liking” for me, his invitation, and in consideration of the difficulty in asking me.

I regret nothing, crazy person.


404: Brain-to-Mouth Filter Not Found

Thing I actually said to a guy I met off Tinder that proves I have no brain-to-mouth filter:

Very sweet Crossfit trainer, who I met that day for the FIRST time: “You should workout a little every day; it is an investment in your health.”

Me: “Come on now. I know you’re a trainer, but *I* don’t go around telling people to read a few pages of a book every day because it is an investment their vocabulary, just because I’m a writer!”

I will just quietly die of mortification in my corner now.

Too Explicit

So, I recently signed up for Tinder. And when I say recently, I mean it has been 6 days. But of course, being the person I am, apparently the universe cannot resist messing with me.

I matched with a bloke’s profile, because it had uproariously funny pictures; none of which was actually of the guy himself. Also, his profile said ‘married’ and he was clear that a relationship and booty calls were off the table. So I thought – because apparently no alarms were ringing in my head – why not, and swiped right.

At first, conversation was great. He was witty and played off being chauvinistic (I presume) and I enjoyed the whole back and forth. He then asked me for my Whatsapp number, which I figured was an easier app to use for communication and I gave it to him.

Somehow, the conversation suddenly became very creepy. There was a lot more suggestiveness and raciness in the messaging, and again, not knowing where to draw the line, I started feeling mighty uncomfortable. And apparently my go-to line for this sort of situation is: “I’m sleepy. Good night.”

Except, just before calling off, he messaged me: “Do you enjoy explicit stuff?” I replied saying: “Jokes only. And then too, the tamer ones.”

“Videos?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

“Ok,” he said.

The next morning, I wake up to a clip on my phone. I press play, and it was thankfully on mute, because it was a video of a huge group of people clapping. The camera moves in towards the centre, and you then see what the people are clapping for.

A relatively nude woman on her back, legs in the air, being boned by a dude in just a t-shirt and his jeans around his ankles.

I recoiled a bit, because while I don’t object to porn, I do object to people sending me clips of it! Then it struck me that there must be a joke, like that picture of a buxom woman in white crossing the road is actually about a dog driving the car. So I watched a little bit, started feeling sick, and fast forwarded to the end. The end, where the guys ‘ends’ all over this woman’s face.

Spoiler alert: it wasn’t a joke; it was porn.