Date Stats
My Outfit: Various, Classy, Conservative, ‘Nice Guy’ Appropriate
His Outfit: Various, Classy, Conservative, ‘Nice Guy’ Attire
Overall Rating: 9/10 (point lost for TRAMPLING ON MY HEART)
After a never-ending stream of bad dates, I was on the verge of deleting Tinder and symbolically setting myself on fire in protest of (and strange homage to) the little flame icon on my iphone that mocks me with false promise and shirtless selfies.
Before I did anything too drastic though, a cute chap in a Barney costume popped up. As you may remember from Nun Tinder (who, incidentally I ran into on Bleeker Street last weekend… mega awks) I am a sucker for a Tinder in a weird costume. We were matched and after some generic banter, he asked me for a drink.
I’ll admit, I wasn’t overly enthused about it. I mean, he was cute and all, but when Tinder has you considering setting yourself in flames, it’s hard to get excited about meeting another potential crazy (you never know whether they might want to wear the Barney costume during sex).
Nevertheless, I arrived for our date at The Soho Room on time and in a bit of a state, having just been seriously propositioned for a threesome by someone I was previously quite fond of (REALLY). I was a little disturbed by the whole thing and proceeded to tell Boston Tinder what had happened, which in retrospect is perhaps not the most adorable way to begin a date.
Especially if you then violently lament how awful men are and order mozzarella sticks to feed your emotions…
Most men probably would have run a mile as my voice started to wobble and I shoved a mozzarella stick into my mouth screaming ‘WHY ARE ALL MEN PIGS?’ but Boston Tinder calmly told me that I was beautiful and said, ‘There are some nice guys out there too.’ SWOON.
When we left, he hailed me a cab and said, ‘I really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?’ Usually this kind of corniness makes me want to take my own life, but there was something so sweet and earnest about Boston Tinder that I felt butterflies as we made out in front of an angry waiting cab driver. It was all so Carrie/Big.
A couple of days later he took me for dinner in the West Village at Tertulia. This time, we expanded our conversation from merely ‘men r scum’ to actually asking questions about each other.
He worked at a Hedge Fund in their legal department (= smart and rich but not a finance douche. Hoorayz.) and was from Boston. He was so sweet and positive and nice about everything I was doing in my life that I literally left our date (which turned into an after-dinner romantic walk around Washington Square Park and then to an after-dinner drink at a cocktail bar) swooning and mooning.
Boston Tinder was a keeper.
For date number three, he came back a day early from a weekender to have a glass of wine with me at The Drunken Horse around the corner from me in Chelsea. Really, he curbed a holiday for just one glass of wine and then walked me to my door and kissed me passionately before I went inside.
Obviously, at this point I was planning our wedding and naming our children.
The next day, we met for celebratory drinks at Boulton and Watt in the East Village. Nothing particularly exciting had happened to me, he was just the sort of guy who finds a reason to celebrate things.
After our drinks he came with me to Spitzers to meet a good friend of mine who was visiting from London. We all had a good time, and then when it was just the two of us we had a ‘chat’ about exclusivity in which we agreed to stop dating other people. I left on cloud nine, looking forward to the dinner we had planned for Friday.
The next day we were passing back and forth cute texts as usual and I asked him if he wanted to come over and watch a movie with me later. He said he really wanted to see me but that he had a work event, could he come after? I told him that was fine and he said he would call me when he was leaving. Then he said:
You’re so cute, send me a picture.
This was the last thing I heard from him for two days (and no, it wasn’t a horrendous picture if that’s what you’re thinking… I was on the subway so I didn’t send him one, honestly).
Friday came and I still hadn’t heard anything, so I sent him a text saying:
Is dinner cancelled?
He replied about an hour later saying:
Tinderella, you’re wonderful. I think that we are too different for either of us to be happy in the long term. I truly wish you the best.
I have not heard from him since and am entirely clueless about what went wrong.
Please, if anyone can shed light on the situation, DO because this has completely thrown me for a loop.
I think I liked him more than The Republican and Benedict Cumberbatch all rolled into one and now I am heartbroken and Googling where to buy kerosene and matches.
xoxo A very sad Tinderella.
Tinderella 