Tinder Stories – It Was Bound To Happen

When you have been in the game as long as I have.

Which is probably the wrong way to put it.

So lets rephrase and go with – when you have dated as MANY people as I have you are bound to have cross over.

Now let me take you back in time, yes all the way back to three years ago when I started dating.

Y’all remember the first ever blog post about Tinder I wrote? If you don’t and you are new here you gotta go and read this little beauty.

Yes, I did actually run away from a man who was naked.

So fast forward and I am back on the dating apps.

I was off them for some time but that story is for another day.

Swiping away I end up matching and chatting to a guy who we shall call Wyatt and he always put ‘x’s’ on the end of his messages.

Babe we barely know each other and my best friend doesn’t even get kisses on the end of messages unless I am being a sarcastic bitch.

So every single time I am reading Wyatt’s messages its coming across in a sarcastic tone.

Things I can overlook.

He asks me if we can move off this dating site and onto socials which is really where this story takes a turn.

I have a public profile because I promote the blog on it but Wyatt has a private Instagram.

He follows me and I have to follow request him, knowing full well he is deep in my archives.

Because he tells me my own statistics e.g how many posts I have.

Ick.

Moving on.

We are messaging and setting up to meet in person for a drink.

He asks if Thursday next week works for me (keep in mind it is the Tuesday previous).

I agree and we keep talking about where we should go.

It was at this moment when he accepts my request and I go look at his profile.

Casually scrolling I see that its very curated.

These were definitely taking by women and the comments under his photos go to prove it.

Scrolling some more and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

God has chosen to smite me hasn’t he?

In a photo is Wyatt and Max.

You know Max, I ran away from.

When he was naked and I told him to leave the front door unlocked.

Keep scrolling.

Then another.

Then another one.

There are many.

They are like best friends or something.

Fuck. Me.

Ugh.

They have been to international destinations together.

Its best friend content.

So I am faced with the moral dilemma that this guy seems really lovely but is best friends with a man I ran away from and then blocked.

He’s best friends with a man who said “come here” to me like a fucking dog.

If you date someone you also date their friends and there would a horrible moment I was envisioning when I get introduced and Max and I lock eyes and we both know what happened.

That is some reality TV stuff right there.

And so I am left pondering if I tell Wyatt or not?

Then the weekend rolls around and he leaves me on seen.

Bad move.

Am I bothered?

No.

In my personal experience do I think he has gotten cold feet and/or is a fuck boy?

Yes.

Did he show my profile to Max and I shall forever be left of seen?

I don’t know but that is the conclusion I come to and move on with my life.

Wyatt comes back to me late Monday evening to which his response was that he was busy with a weekend and was hungover.

If I am hungover I am clutching my phone because it is my life line to uber eats and my friends telling me that we will not die like this.

Do I accept his excuse for leaving me on seen?

No.

He asks me if we are still up for drinks on Thursday.

“I actually thought you dropped off the face of the earth so I am catching up with a friend on Thursday but what other day would work for you?”

“wait … I thought we said Thursday”

“I can no longer do Thursday, how does Wednesday work for you?”

Was it a sly move on my behalf?

Yes.

Do I give a damn?

Na, not really. Wyatt is just a name on a screen at this point.

Also he knows Max so I am kinda hoping this thing dies before drinks.

We decide Wednesday at a basic ass bar and the conversation continues.

He then tells me it was his birthday and well he went to HQ for drinks with his friends.

Now listen when I say this but a mans watering hole tells you everything you need to know about him.

Period.

I didn’t stutter.

For those of you who live outside of an informed bubble in Auckland or just don’t live in the city of sails let me link you in.

The owner of HQ is a cunt.

Just google him and inlighten yourself that truely terrible people out there still exist.

So we don’t go there. Its cancelled.

Now Wyatt is a basic male so he’s misinformed about many things in his life so I just mention that I am surprised that the bar is still open.

Such a shame that he is quickly taking himself out of the race.

Ah well.

We fast forward to Wednesday where I arrive first at the bar, begin reading the news and being unsurprised that a man is late to a time he suggested.

Wyatt turns up and we grab a drink.

Everything he is saying is going in one ear about out the other because I am too busy thinking about the fact that I ran away from Max two years prior.

Despite me not paying any attention we are the last ones in the bar and its going surprising well.

Wyatt can talk and I can nod.

I ask him if he wants to go to another bar since we are getting kicked out and don’t seem to be done talking.

Just a hop skip and a jump away is a classic cocktail bar which I love to go to.

We get situated and it dawns on me that I am still holding onto my secret.

Yup. Good. Great.

Nice.

Wyatt gets back from the bathroom and we order a round of drinks.

I skipped to the bathroom and when I return things have clearly escalated because he’s now sitting very close to me.

So we are sitting there and then I realise I have never actually said happy birthday to Wyatt in person.

I lean forward put a hand on his knee and say “I forgot to tell you but Happy Birthday” and kiss him.

Yeah

Asking about his weekend and how it was his birthday I enquire about the details.

He and his flatmates got very rowdy at home after town.

Wyatt tells me he lives with his best mates.

He then tells me more details about them.

Some of which I cannot share with you as they are identifying details.

Then it hit me.

All of it hit me.

Max is his flat mate.

Max is his best friend.

Ah yup this is a fuck up on my behalf.

Cocktails have arrived and Wyatt starts to ask questions about what I do in my spare time.

Like what do I get unto in my evenings.

“I write a blog.”

“A blog?”

“Yup, a blog about my life.”

“About your life, like what about your life?”

“I’ve written about the flat mates from hell season one and two and right now I am writing about my dating life.”

“your dating life?”

“yup.”

I have always been very upfront and honest when it comes to the blog and I will absolutely admit that on this one occasion I didn’t tell ALL of the truth straight away but give me a minute here.

Taking this moment I confess my sins.

Explaining how the blog started. That I went on this booty call with this guy and I turned up and his room was a mess and before we slept together I asked if he had a condom and he didn’t. So I told him that I had one in my handbag in my car and that I will go and grab it. Except I ran away from this guy as he lay there naked and never returned.

Wyatt laughed.

Then I took a deep breath.

“That guy and this story has led me to write about other dates which then got turned into a stage show, made the news and well entertain a few thousand people across the world.”

Wyatt laughed again and told me how wild this is to him.

And it is wild.

Its fucking wild.

I pop my hand on Wyatt’s knee again and say “Max, the guy who started all of this, you know him and I have been sitting here really enjoying our banter but you should know because you two are actually best friends and I would hate for you to find out any other way apart from me. I thought you might have read the blog but you haven’t. I would never expose anyones identity but you should know.”

And Wyatt took a couple of seconds before saying “I don’t sleep with people who have slept with my friends.”

Brah.

Did you miss the key message when I said I went to go sleep with him but he didn’t have a condom so I ran away?

“oh um but we didn’t sleep together, he did’t have a condom just a gross bedroom”

“yeah he’s the messiest person in the flat”

Good to know old habits haven’t died.

“your flat mate really needs to work on how he talks to women just as a heads up. I doubt he told you about this incident but might be worth letting him know that his current strategy isn’t working.”

“so you didn’t sleep with him?”

“no, he booty called me, begged me to hurry up and when I graced him with 40 minutes he didn’t clean his room or have protection, so I left.”

“but you did everything else?”

“no because dudes these days don’t go out giving oral for some stupid reason.”

And honestly now that I cast my mind WAY back I am kinda glad it didn’t happen, there is only so far my acting skills can carry bad talent.

“yeah I don’t get with girls any of my mates have been with – morally.”

“fair call, like I said I wanted to be honest, he’s clearly a really good mate of yours and I would never want to jeopardise any of that.”

The conversation took a pause and I jumped to the bathroom.

I stood in that tiny cubical looking at myself in the mirror wondering if I had just cock blocked myself but I had done the right thing.

Sitting back down the waiter came over and asked us if we wanted another round.

Wyatt said yes.

Sorry, what.

If there was ever a time to call it a night because this isn’t going anywhere it would have been right then.

I am staring quite rudely at Wyatt because all bets were off and now they are back on again?

Men say women are hard to read you deal with a man who morally won’t sleep with you but wants your company.

Whilst we wait for drinks Wyatt clearly was thinking and asks if the website in my bio is blog.

Obviously he has seen it and so I asked him if he clicked it?

He tells me that he did but it was a lot of writing so he didn’t bother reading it.

No worries the blog isn’t for everyone. Clearly he is a picture book sort of guy.

We continue chatting about our lives and I am wondering why the hell I am still here. Don’t get me wrong, good chat but I am not out here to make friends.

Its now at that point in the night where you would think this story would be coming to an end, right?

God you guys should know by now but absolutely not.

Wyatt asks me where I live and I explain that I was house sitting this week. He offers to drive me home which to his credit after this evening is a nice gesture.

We get up to go and leave and I am not going to lie but I was feeling mega guilty, so I paid the bill.

As he is driving me back to where I was house sitting and its late. Easily close to midnight.

I don’t remember how the next bit went but Wyatt is parking and coming inside.

Which for a man who isn’t going to sleep with me seems like a lot of effort. I offer him a water and just go balls to the wall in being bold because ya gal is not sober.

“do you just want to stay?”

This version of Seren, she is unpredictable, there isn’t a filter on her and she seems to only come out when the moon is high in the sky.

Wyatt says yes and me, myself and I are rather shocked.

So one thing is leading to another.

What happened to Wyatt’s morals?

Was it my matching lingerie set or the fact that I spoke absolute rubbish on the way home?

Did he leave them in the bar?

We get to the grand moment.

And then I realise – I am not at my house.

I didn’t pack a bag with the expectations that I would be sleeping with someone.

So I ask Wyatt “do you have a condom?”

“um no, do you?”

“if I did, I wouldn’t be asking.”

“so you don’t have one?”

“no this isn’t my house”

“but you have birth control right?”

Get the fuck out of here.

Fuck right off.

“I am not sleeping with you without a condom.”

“I think I have one in my car”

OH SHIT

ITS HAPPENING

KARMA IS HAPPENING TO ME

RIGHT

FUCKING

NOW

FULL CIRCLE MOMENT

I TOLD HIM THE STORY AND NOW HE IS GETTING THE BEST EVER REVENGE ON ME

WOW

WYATT YOU ARE SMOOTH

So he gets out of bed, puts on clothes and shoes just like I did to his best mate and he literally runs out the door.

But ladies and gents as I lay there in my stunning matching set I see Wyatt’s wallet and phone.

He was telling the truth, he wasn’t running away, he was sprinting to his car to hunt for a condom at 2am.

I couldn’t even believe it.

About 4 minutes later he comes back in empty handed. 9

This gal can only laugh, really hard at this entire situation.

Because Wyatt and Max are the same which is why they are best friends, why they live together and why neither of them got to sleep with me.

No protection – no go – no exceptions.

Good night sir, its time to go to sleep.

You are going home empty handed and you ended up cock blocking yourself.

Check mate.

We woke up about 5am and Wyatt left because he had to go home and get ready for work and I put myself in the shower with a hangover before crawling back to bed for an hour.

It felt like a fever dream.

What the actual fuck.

Needless to say we never went on another date, in fact the chat just died out.

I was hit with “are you out tonight??” at 11.47pm

And I told him should he should try before 11pm next time.

He said that I seemed awake and was really really trying to get a booty call by even asking me if I was prepared.

It wasn’t me who wasn’t prepared.

I have an IUD.

I am THE MOST PREPARED.

Take some god damn accountability sir.

Up your bills by $5 a week and buy some condoms for your flat.

Put them at the door and just be fucking better.

Needless to say we never met up again.

Wyatt still follows me on the gram but I doubt he will read this blog as it has many words and not enough pictures.

To Men: Pt 3-S**t you need to stop saying.

Following along from international woman day. I thought I would pop together a list of the shit I am tired of hearing. I mean I could eye roll to death if I had a man string these lines together.

  1. Girls on tinder are easy.
  2. She’s got too much make up on.
  3. ¬†You can’t lift as much as me.
  4. _____ throws like a girl.
  5. Where is my sandwich?
  6. How do you cook eggs?
  7. Are you on your period?
  8. Your lipstick is quiet dark.
  9. She said no to me.
  10. She is not very lady like.
  11. Her stretch marks are off putting.
  12. As long as she knows how to get onto her knees.
  13. She shouldn’t drink as much as me.
  14. She should be on birth control.
  15. She has that womanly touch.
  16. Being a woman is not an excuse.
  17. Bloody female drivers.
  18. Thats not how a lady speaks.
  19. You will be a great mother.
  20. Have you thought about getting into teaching/nursing/administration?
  21. Oh no she won’t like it because she’s a girl.
  22. Whisky is for men.
  23. Someone has their big girl pants on.
  24. What would your mother say?
  25. Thats too short.
  26. Thats too long.
  27. Why did you cut your hair off?
  28. Is it that time of month?
  29. You have such a way with children.
  30. I would give her a 4/10.
  31. She’s had too much work done.
  32. She is too fat.
  33. She is too thin.
  34. I hope my daughter doesn’t turn out like you.
  35. You father would disapprove.

Just stop. Because it is a no from me.

To men: Pt 2-To the man on table 38

To the man on table 38.

My name is Seren. Not Sarah.

I am your waitress for the two hours you are in this establishment.

I am not your slave.

There are a few things you need to know.

I would like to thank you for being one of my tables for the evening. The one of 16 I had that evening. I would like to thank you for reaffirming my beliefs in myself. I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me the ability to stand up for myself. I would like to say that I am not sorry for what I said. That you told me I was rude for asking for a tip. That I gave excellent service with terrible opinions. I am not sorry that you were one of my 16 tables that evening. Why you may ask?

When I introduced myself you said my name was too difficult and that you would call me Sarah. I said you might as well clap your hands at me. Its about the same.

When I asked if you had been here before, you scoffed and questioned why I wouldn’t remember such a handsome man like yourself. I told you because you may look like every other white man who comes in here. With a smile. I told you maybe you should try make yourself memorable.

And boy, oh boy, did you.

You were ever so slightly taller than me. Blue collared shirt. Black dress pants. Black tie and a belt that was begging to be released from around your over weight waist.

You were clean shaven but had clipped yourself on the right side of your chin. You had salt and pepper hair and bad teeth. You spoke with your hands which worried me and within the first 30 seconds of our interaction I already knew what I was in for.

You said you wanted a bottle of wine. I looked at you, tilted my head and asked if this wine had a name.

You told me I was a stupid girl and that you wanted a red.

I told you how fantastic that is but that I cannot help you until your become more specific. I also said its not like this joke ever gets old. And internally I said “unlike you.”

You told me a shiraz and before I left I said that since you have been here before and that you seem quiet confident that I expect you to have your order ready by the time I get back.

Now when I came back. I did give you around 7 minutes to do so. You were leaning across the table trying to make a point to the gentleman who said with you. That poor poor soul. RIP his wasted evening.

You then told me that you were ready to order and promptly asked how old am I?

21.

Your eyebrows lifted. Like the opportunist bastard that you are.

21, you repeated at me.

I told you yes. I didn’t stutter.

You then said how amazing my figure is for such a lovely young lady.

You then also took this opportunity to tell me how my hips would be perfect to balance children on. How I am wasting my life here. At work.

I told you that I am here to take your food order not to be stared at. You laughed.

Then I got mad.

I smiled. Laughed and then asked if you were married.

Two can play at this game and this is my game.

Meet your master position 3 on table 38. This won’t be fun. It never is for men like you. You ‘friend’ lent back in his chair and knew what was coming.

Word for word this is what I said. I wrote it down after my shift. Because if it came back as a complaint I would of liked to be prepared.

“Sir, as I have just said I am here to take your order. If you need more time, let me know. What I need you to do right now is listen. Your job is simple, sit down and read. Make a decision and then tell me. My name is Seren, not Sarah, I will not come over to this table if you ask for Sarah, I won’t do anything for you in a hurry if you continue on this track. If fact I would be so bold as a woman who is 21 to ask you to leave. I do not come to work and ask to be judged on my appearance. It is not in my contract to look a certain way and it is not your job to tell me how great I look. I know. Because unlike you, I don’t need to pick on others to feel better. I do not need to tell a woman how great her hips would be at carrying children. So Sir, are you ready to order or do you need 5 minutes to think about your choice of steak this evening?”

He said that he was ready to order.

And then I power tripped him into another week.

He wanted a rare steak that has a lot of fat in it. Now being the kind person I am, I informed him that he would be a fool to insult the animal asking it to be rare because you are not going to enjoy the cut. That, for his benefit and the cows he should go for medium.

Now his face began to pucker and I was not going to stop there. His dinner member picked up his glass of wine and was more ready than I was to see him be destroyed.

I said “Sir, I know you will find it difficult to take advice from a woman, a young woman at that, so please give me one moment.”

I turned around and asked my male co worker to come to the table.

I asked him on his advice on the cooking temperature for the wagyu scotch. He said medium is best. I said thank you and just stood there with my hands behind my back.

You followed my lead.

You ate your steak and didn’t dare tell me I was right, or wrong for the matter.

You drank your wine.

You paid your bill and I told you how fantastic of an evening it had been serving you.

Your ‘friend’ waited till you descended down the stairs and stuck his hand out.

He shook my hand and thanked me for a memorable evening. How he shall continue to come back and see me and how he wished me all the luck in the future. As he smiled and pulled his hand away he had given me a $50 note.

You never complained. You have never come back in.

Your friend has been back. We never bring you up. We just nod at each other.