The Nun Tinder

Date Stats

My Outfit: Black short skirt, blue tank top, black cardigan and brown boots

His Outfit: Suit

Day: Monday

Time: 8.45-11.45pm

Overall Rating: 6/10

Nun Tinder? I hear you ask. Yes! I was totally excited by this guy because in one of his Tinder photos he was dressed like a nun and it was the best thing I’ve ever seen.

We started talking and I was excited that he was as hilariously weird as you would expect somebody who puts a photo of themselves dressed like a nun on Tinder to be. We moved from Tinder to text (big step!) and discussed the best way to torture yourself with office supplies (paper-cut yourself and then punch a staple into the paper-cut) before we set a date for the next day.

After so many bad dates, it’s sometimes a struggle to stay optimistic but I was genuinely excited for Nun Tinder… YES, OK, a big part of my excitement stemmed from his promise to bring me some of the Girl Scout cookies that were in his office.

I had an audition around the corner from his office so we agreed to meet at an Irish Pub nearby, on 46th and 6th when I was done. He was already there when I arrived, loitering awkwardly at the door.

We chose a table and as soon as he sat down he presented me with a bag full of Girl Scout cookies (a mix of all of the best ones) and also a business card because I had told him that this is the ‘done thing’ when a Finance guy meets a lady (YES Nun Tinder worked in Finance. I have just accepted that everyone on Tinder is in Finance). I immediately ate 3 of the cookies and he didn’t even bat an eyelid, he just suggested WE ORDER FOOD AS WELL! The dream.

We ordered a huge plate of spinach and artichoke dip and some drinks, and I noticed with disappointment that he was very nervous. Where was the man who would cut himself deliberately on a business card and then laugh as he poured tippex into the open wound?

He asked me a lot of questions about myself, which I answered diligently. Then he explained his job in Finance to me for literally 10 minutes, but I wasn’t listening – I was distracted by the bag of cookies, and started wondering how many cookies it is socially acceptable to eat on a date… 5? I was also getting anxiety that if I ate too many cookies on the date, I would have fewer to eat later… the classic cookie conundrum.

My hand inched closer to the bag of cookies as he wrapped up his Finance explanation – ‘Stocks, Mergers, Contracts, and there you have it’ (I mean, he probably didn’t actually say that, but he definitely said something about Finance). I was about to close in on cookie number 4 when the waitress brought over the spinach and artichoke dip. The only thing that can distract me from food on the table is other food on the table.

Glad to be done with the Finance ‘conversation’, I turned the talk to pornography. We argued about whether his office would hire an ex-porn star (him: YES, me: OF COURSE THEY WOULDN’T, CORPORATE PIGS) and discussed the merits of porn vs stripping.

I was Team Stripping (I WOULD TOTES BE A STRIPPER IF ANYONE WOULD EVER ACTUALLY BE MAD ENOUGH TO PAY ME TO TAKE MY CLOTHES OFF… hint, pimps!) but he was Team Porn. He started arguing his case by explaining the ‘scaleability’ of porn and this is when I knew that despite the Girl Scout cookies and the nun outfit we had no future. I just can’t be with someone who talks about scaleability (whatever that even means) when I’m talking about how much I want a pair of stripper heels.

I was so very sad to realize that Nun Tinder was nothing like as weird as his texts or his Nun picture had promised him to be. He was just another suit, talkin’ about scaleability and eatin’ my Girl Scout cookies (I KNOW! RUDE! I immediately hit his hand away from my cookies but he TOOK ONE ANYWAY).

He asked if I wanted another drink but I was sleepy and wanted to get back home to be alone with my cookies, so I declined.

Perks of dating a suit: they will pay for your cab ride home.

Not such a perk: they will be in the cab too.

I was fretting about what to do if he tried to kiss me – he’d been dropping hints all night about us getting together for another date which I had respectfully ignored – I really didn’t want to kiss him but I didn’t want to be rude either. After all, he had brought me a bag of cookies… maybe that even deserves a quick hand job…?

As the cab pulled outside my building I decided the best thing to do was just immediately jump out of the cab and wave goodbye. So I did.

WHY CAN’T I JUST DATE A COOKIE FOR GOD’S SAKE? Or The Republican… sob.