My feeble first step into the world of dating apps happened at the start of the month, at the big old age of 21. I thought it was about time. And let me tell you, the first attempted date was confirmation of why it took me so long to dive into the online dating pool. I downloaded Hinge on the reassurance that Tinder was full of fuckboys and other dating apps were too much effort.
The first guy I started talking to was called Joe*. He was 21, a dolphin shaver (this was to be explained on the date) and had a video of him snowboarding. While he wasn’t my usual type, his profile said he was six foot one and well… sign me up.
We quickly bonded over our love of travelling and our mutual need for alcohol on a regular basis. On one fateful evening of desperation to give my first ever Hinge date a go, and after four days of talking, we arranged to meet. I live in an area haunted by my ex’s friends, so I asked if we could go near where he lived.
By the time Friday rolled around, I can’t lie… I was nervous. What do you talk about? What are you supposed to drink? What happens if I want to leave? Do I wear something slutty, or something that shows I’m not going to put out on the first date?
Come Friday 6pm, still no message on what time we were meeting. That’s fine, right? He might still be at work? I sent him a message asking if he was still free and he immediately replied “yes of course”. Hooray! I was worrying for nothing, so I asked him what time.
It was 8pm and he still hadn’t replied. Per my friends’ advice, I started to get ready and could join them at the pub if he didn’t get back to me. An hour later, g&t in hand, he messages saying “Im out atm havin a drink, I’ll finish n meet u in 30?”. Hmm slightly annoying, but I guess this might just be how Hinge dates work.
Our very own Jess from the Messy team was telling me I should fob him off. She was right, it’s about respect and this was pushing it. But I’m won over by my friends pushing me to give him a second chance and to just get this first date over and done with. So to be sly, I told him I’d be free in an hour because I was with my friends, and he says “Woah so you ditch me! Think that means you owe me a pint tonight? X”.
So the date is officially set for 10.30pm. Obviously, by the time 10.20pm rolls around I get a message saying “11? Xxx”. The messages are getting progressively shorter with more kisses and less spell check, and we all know what that means.
I reluctantly said yes. I was three drinks down and desperate to just say hi and go home so I could tell my sister that I’d had my first date post-breakup. But not 20 minutes later, he tells me he’s delayed and will be there for 11.20pm. Is he serious?
No, I’m annoyed. I tell him he’s taking the piss and I am not meeting him anywhere tonight. He says “yh nw would hve been nice” and “I’ll go there at 11 and meet u come on”. Four persistent messages proceeded telling me it “would be a great time” and “cum on I’m there”.
Needless to say that left a bad stain on my online dating experience. Drinking through the embarrassment hangover on Saturday almost led me to deleting the app altogether. But dating apps sound like a rite of passage for twenty year olds, so maybe it’s not yet time to give up. So the next Hinge date (not with Joe*) is booked in for Tuesday.
*this person’s name has been changed for anonymity.
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