The Worst

So I had my first post-non-breakup date this week and it went really well! We have a second date tonight, so I am going to lump those two together in the same post. And I promise I will tell you guys about it instead of just being like "he's really nice" because ya'll are my besties and I tell you guys everything. Also I am extreeeeemely cynical and am preparing for it to end horribly by writing about it before that happens. :) BUT for now, I would like to tell you about a previous Tinder date that I went on years ago. This life is full of uncertainties, but there are a few things I know for a fact:

1. Spoonfuls of peanut butter are a completely acceptable substitute for a meal.
2. Anyone that starts sentence with, “No offense, but… ” is about to say something horrible.
3. Burke Ramsey definitely killed his sister.
4. The following date is the worst date I have ever been on in my entire life.

Although this was 4 years ago, it was traumatizing enough that I remember the most important details. His hair was a bit too long and was curling upwards at the ends like Jimmy Neutron’s mom. Not a fan. Since that’s too long of a code name I’m gonna call him The Worst. Because he is.

It was the summer I was living in Vegas with my parents in between semesters. I don’t think I have to tell you the pickins’ were slim. My YSA ward consisted of college guys my age that were in Vegas for the summer and had absolutely no intention of taking girls out that they didn’t meet on the strip, and older guys that were single for very obvious reasons. I used Tinder to reassure myself those of the opposite gender were attracted to me and the guys in my ward just sucked. Although matches were not hard to get, guys that weren’t avid club goers or borderline alcoholics were. Not exactly my type. Also not to mention the number of LDS guys compared to those in Utah were much smaller. Flirt to convert is not a thing. Just speaking from experience here, if our goals are not similar, then nothing is going to come of it. (Maybe we can make out or something, but that’s it. Okay, you can come with me to Thanksgiving so my family can shut up. But that’s it.)

The Worst was indeed Mormon and an RM, which doesn't brand him for life as a certified Good Person but it's not a bad starting point. And since the Mormon crowd is pretty close-knit, I heard through someone in my ward that they went to school with The Worst and for some reason that was good enough for me. I didn’t hunt this person down and ask about him, because I tend to like to give people clean slates. I didn’t want to start off the date knowing about everyone he dated in high school and the scorned women of his past. I’ve kind of come to the conclusion that almost every guy is some girl’s Satan in the Flesh, and every girl is some guy’s Crazy Whore of the Earth. Everyone has baggage and dating is messy, so there tends to be some casualties along the way. I myself as an imperfect person have done some pretty crappy things to people. I'm sure someone out there, maybe even someone reading this, thinks I deserve every bad date I talk about and it brings them joy. I can live with that. You do you.

I lived in my parent's house at the time, which might be intimidating for most guys. And actually explains the next few events that occurred. He texted, not called, TEXTED me that he was outside my house. In his car. I took a deep breath. This is fine. Maybe he’s nervous. I walk toward his car, and he’s not getting out. Not to introduce himself, open my door, nothing. I got in the car and quickly introduced myself. Not a fantastic way to start a date with a stranger, but as I said, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. I don’t remember what we talked about on the way there, I just know it felt awkward. Our conversation was not flowing well. Again, I chalked it up to nervousness. We went to get frozen yogurt. He did pay for me, so he didn’t screw that part up. But he happened to know the owner and had a very long conversation with him (we’re talking 20+ minutes) without introducing me once or acknowledging my presence.

Gee, this is a lot of fun but I gotta go do absolutely anything else.

But I didn’t leave cuz like, he drove me there and I wanted to eat my fro yo. As we finally sat down and ate, he still proves to be a terrible conversationalist. I was asking all the questions, and he wasn’t putting in any effort to get to know me. Why was I there?? I was already beyond annoyed, thinking it couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, when he says something that makes me think I hallucinated.

In response to something I asked him, he replied, “Yeah, my girlfriend… “

What.

“Did you just say you have a girlfriend?”

“Well, sometimes I call her my girlfriend.”

Kill me. Kill me now.

“What?”

“She’s going on a mission so we broke up, and I’m trying to date other people.”

“So she’s not your girlfriend.”

“Well I go and see her when I’m up north.”

WTF.

what the fresh hell is this

I hated everything that was happening. This guy was delusional thinking any girl would want to go out with him while he blabbed on about his non-girlfriend. I told him he probably shouldn't be asking girls out until he works that out, and he could tell I was fuming. As we left, he said something to try and make things better and then offered a hug. Don’t ask me why, but I hugged him. Ick. I don’t think there’s enough showers in the world to wipe that off. He seemed weirdly concerned about me and my feelings all of a sudden, and asked if we could go to a park to talk. I felt like he was trying to apologize in his own way, and maybe I could get a better explanation about the girlfriend thing. I was STILL giving this bozo the benefit of the freaking doubt. What is wrong with me. Well, you see... *See my 345 page research paper for more information on my issues.*

As we park in the parking lot of the park (lol) we sat there for a second. Many seconds. I asked if he wanted to actually get out and walk around, I mean it was in the middle of a really nice day. He said no, he wanted to stay in the car and talk.

Ef.

What I thought was an innocent suggestion turned very quickly into the stuff of Tinder nightmares.

“Wanna sit in the backseat?”

“Uhhh… not really?”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s unnecessary, why can’t we just talk where we’re sitting?”

“I wanna cuddle.”

“No. I don’t know you.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please? Will you sit in the back seat with me?”

“Will you drop it? I said no.”

My tone sounds angry, but looking back I was probably being nice and playful about it.

help

A guy saying he "just wants to cuddle" is code for "I want to do anything but cuddling." Cuddling is the gateway drug to NCMO's, kiddos. I told him I needed to go. “Nah, you don’t need to go.” “I do though.” “No you don’t.” In girl code fashion I texted my mom, my sister, and my best friend to call me and pretend I needed to come home right away. I don’t remember who called me but someone did, and we had a fake conversation about how I needed to leave. EVEN AFTER THIS PHONE CALL, HE STILL DIDN’T THINK I HAD A GOOD ENOUGH REASON TO GO HOME.

This is it. This is how I die.

It got to the point where he was being creepy. Yes it was broad daylight, and he was a pretty skinny guy so I felt like I could take him if I needed to. But I didn’t want to spend one more moment with him in that vehicle. I didn’t want to be on the news. I didn’t want to have to murder someone, not today. I have a lot of untapped rage that has built up over the years from 5th grade bullies and other a-holes like him.

I guess walking was an option, we were close enough to my house. But my pridefulness said that he should at least have the decency to drive me. Yes he was a major weirdo on every level, but I don’t think he was going to try anything. He’s just used to girls not turning him down. He was good looking enough, I guess. But like, his personality is so ew.

After being in the car for way too long, maybe 15-20 minutes, he finally drives me home. He gets out to hug me this time. I go into my house. I kiss the ground. I hug my dog. I delete my Tinder. Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, again.

lololol

Minutes later, I get a call from him. An apology maybe? My ego liked the sound of that. When I answered, I came to find it was far from it. This guy spent HALF AN HOUR talking to me about every bad thing he had ever done and details you should only be telling your wife and probably your bishop. I think a part of me had a premonition about this blog or something, because I stayed on the phone and just listened. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Everything he was spewing was fantastic blackmail. It was bizarre. I am a stranger on Tinder that he just had a terrible date with, and the things he was telling me were so inappropriate considering that I wasn't his betrothed or his therapist, and if I was evil enough I could have used it against him somehow. I wish I could tell you what he said, but it is TMI even for this blog. He wasn't harassing me or anything, or I would not have refrained from unleashing my wrath if that was the case.

this is me trying to be intimidating

After I hung up, I never heard from him again. BUT I did run into him over the summer while I was with some other friends, except I avoided eye contact and pretended like I didn't know who he was. Which I think was for the best. I don't think I got on Tinder for a while after that. By that I mean like, maybe I deleted it for a few weeks. Who's to say. I've had it off and on as long as I've known of it's existence. That's not the point. The point is, the worst date I've ever been on came from Tinder and the best date I've been on came from Tinder. Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose.

You = Jerry. Pie = Tinder.

~*~*~*~*~THANKS FOR READING~*~*~*~*~*

Do you guys remember when we would sign all of our e-mails in middle school like that? We should bring that back. I'ma start.

HAHAHAHAHAA

WELP. THAT DIDN'T TAKE LONG.

Remember that time I said Tinder was staying gone from my life indefinitely?

Let's all laugh together.

It's been 3 weeks of sulking since I was royally dumped on my arse, and that's 2 weeks and 6 days too long for my taste. Even though a part of me is more than happy to pout for an eternity, the not-psycho part of me is dragging me kicking and screaming back to the Tinder wasteland. I cleared some apps for my phone, turned on my Boss playlist (consists of Beyoncé, Nicki Minaj, and Meghan Trainor to name a few plz don't judge me), clicked the download button and waited for regret and pain to follow. Instead, I felt nothing. I think I have permanently cleansed myself of all bad feelings associated with Tinder. Which is good. I think the vibes you have while swiping are transferred electronically and the person on the other end can sense them. So if I have positive energy I will attract less weirdos. Trust Me I Am An Expert.™

As I logged on, I immediately changed all my pictures. Most of them were 2-3 years old. I have a theory that 22 year old Makenzie attracts different people than 25 year old Makenzie. Less coeds that are still finding their way through life and more guys that have careers and know how to do their own taxes. I mean, I'm still figuring out taxes but it's good if at least one of us knows how to do that.

Next was the bio. When I logged back in it was, "Talents include rapping Super Bass flawlessly and avoiding confrontation." Another past favorite I remember having was "swipe left if you don't consider Pluto a planet." Short quips are excellent conversation starters and reveal absolutely nothing about my life other than I am funny. And if they don't think so, then I didn't want to be talking to them anyway. I quickly changed it to, "My cat doesn't like you and she likes everyone." Satisfied with this pop culture reference mixed with the fact that I will always love my cat more than I love any person, I start swiping.

I swipe right a few times, and swipe left a few hundred times. I always forget how picky I am. But remembering that this was the formula I used for all past dates and didn't have any issues finding normal guys, I trench on and resist the urge to swipe right on those who say they have a thing for redheads in their bio. As the matches start to pop up, I already felt significantly better. I should probably seek help for the rush I get from strangers validating my attractiveness on the internet, but that's besides the point. The point is I am getting back on the stupid horse. Because sometimes the ride is really wonderful and exhilarating and sometimes you get bucked off and eat dirt. But it's still better than walking. There is no end goal or "I'm going on a date every week until I die" thing. That's exhausting. I'm going with the flow, and will be blogging my adventures along the way. I am perfectly content being single forever, but who says I can't be a hot 65 year old still going on dates? WHO SAYS???

For those curious about the content of my previously mentioned Boss playlist, here's one of my favorite songs that I feel very much relates to Tinder and is good for the single soul. Enjoy.