So, I’ve swiped right and left so much I feel like a wheat harvester with a scythe. Or whatever horror story villain uses a scythe. (Please look up the definition of “scythe” if you don’t know that word. Don’t be stupid.) After a few weeks, I’ve found some decent (code: literate and responsive) guys to have a conversation with. And today one of them, we’ll call him TGA (Tinder Guy A), asked to meet me.
Are you serious? Why would I put myself through that? I don’t date! Wait, that was the problem. That’s why I’m on Tinder in the first place. Oops. So, I guess I’ll have to meet this guy.
Online dating is weird. It’s like a cart-before-the-horse kind of thing. Sort of. Let me explain.
Most of the time when people meet on their own, they discover each other somewhere (“I met him in the cereal aisle at Whole Foods” or whatever), you agree to meet for coffee or drinks or food, then you learn about them. Online (with apps like Tinder), you pick a person based on profiles and pictures, you talk with them to learn more about them, and THEN you meet. Cart before horse. It feels more like job search than starting a relationship.
This brings a whole set of what-ifs and questions. After TGA asked me out, I immediately wanted to go to the gym, my closet, and the nail salon all at once. It was a quick burst of almost painful panic.
First, I was concerned that I didn’t look exactly like my picture–one that I took three weeks prior. You know, it’s the “Objects may be bigger and flabbier than they appear” syndrome. Time for some OT at the gym and some new Spanx. Or a round of liposuction.
Then, I couldn’t remember if I had any date clothes. The last time I went out on a date…..oh, let’s not go down this road. Do yoga pants count? No? Not even with a cute top?
And don’t forget all of the maintenance stuff. What my granddad used to call “primping.” As in, “stop that primping in the mirror, and let’s go! The car is running!” These days, it’s a little more than what he thought. (It was always a little more than what he thought.) While we ladies love a good pedicure just for us, we don’t treat ourselves as much if it really is just for us. But when we know a guy might see any part of our body normally covered by clothes or shoes, we must exfoliate, polish, wax, paint, whatever is needed to make that body part shine. I have never had so many people touch me in my life in such a short amount of time. All for the adoration of one guy. Weird huh?
But now that the panic has subsided I looked at my picture, and I’ve gone over all my convo with TGA. I represented myself truthfully the whole time. And he still wants to meet me. I do feel better about this whole thing.
But what if he’s a dud? 😯😐 And the panic attack returns…..
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