The Previous Players

Let me introduce my previous top players before we get into the current dating scene:

6’3; 26 years old

                The third bumble date. 6’3 is also a consultant who travels for work, shocking, I know. Because of this traveling, we talked for 2 weeks before ever even seeing each other, kind of like a weird online relationship. We were supposed to go to dinner for our first date but this “date” ended up being at his apartment the night he got back. To say I was skeptical would be an understatement and I made sure my friends and my mom knew everything I knew about this kid before I even showed up, I’m talking a complete FBI style file: name, address, height, age, phone number, hometown, 10 Facebook photos (just in case I went missing and he needed to be found – I had to get all the angles). I let him know I was skeptical and told him it would be a bad idea to kidnap me and sell me on the black market (even though I’d probably go for a lot of money) since I had a company party the next day that I already RSVP’d to and they would know I was missing. He didn’t find that funny (jerk). This is when I started pregaming dates which remains my best bumble decision to date. 

Things were good; 6’3 liked to drink even more than I did and although it was kind of a shitshow, it was fun. I liked 6’3 but I would soon realize I liked a certain part of 6’3 best. After a few weeks of casual hangouts that usually ended at my apartment, we were supposed to finally have a real date. The fact that it took this long should have probably been a sign but hey, we were having a good drunk time. We were going to a hockey game, the kid even bought me a shirt for it. Long story short, he had a client/family friend in town that day and had been drinking since 11am. I’m all for day drinking, it’s one of my best activities, but when I have to ask you not to pass out by the time I show up, there might be an issue. I meet up with them, we go back to his apartment, he passes out. Now it’s just me and the client, who asks if we’re dating. At this point I’m expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out because this seriously can’t be happening. Did I mention that this client was taking photos of us and sending them to a family group text..? Seriously Ashton, where you at?! In all fairness to 6’3, I did go a little batshit crazy, but I’ll blame that on being dickmatized. (hypnotized…by his, well you know). Now I just see 6’3 sporadically…usually I’m drunk, it starts with “you home?”(mostly through snapchat) and its after 10pm. I would go into more detail about 6’3 and these bizarre interactions but I want that at my drunk beck and call and not someone else’s; dickmatized, remember?

Mr. 30; 30 years old

                Before we get into this shitshow let me admit, I am obsessed with 30 year olds. I have no explanation for this but if your profile says 30, I’m going to give you an extra look or 5. Being 29 is OK because guess what you’re turning…yep 30.

                I wasn’t initially excited about Mr. 30, he was cute and his bio was kind of sweet when I first matched with him. It was one of the longer bios I had read and it said some weird thing about a getaway car and being an air hockey champion, but the last line sold me. It said he’d rather meet up than talk for weeks on this app and I completely agreed; he seemed sweet. Since then he’s turned into a bumble slut or whatever the guy equivalent is and deleted that sweet ending line and replaced it with his height and more ego boosting facts.  But back to when he wasn’t a bumblehoe…

We planned our first date 3 hours before it happened. Usually I’m not into last minute dates but I didn’t have anything else to do and he’s 30, so obviously I said yes. Dinner was great. For the first time on a date I didn’t have to rehash my whole entire work day for conversation. I was pleasantly surprised by Mr. 30, but as it was ending 6’3 texted. Here I am sitting across from Mr. 30 planning how I’m going to get to 6’3s kicking myself for telling Mr. 30 where I lived because he’s driving me home. I liked Mr. 30 so much that I pretended to walk into my complex when he dropped me off even though my uber to 6’3s was already waiting. 

We had a second date: sake bombs and all you can eat sushi on a Sunday. I wanted to test the limits of the 30 year old liver and this seemed like the perfect way. I was sold on Mr. 30 and he seemed to be sold too. He’d come over if I asked, sent me photos from vacation, was interested in my days; these weeks were going well. The thought of Mr. 30 in a tux drove me a little wild and luckily I had a black tie event coming up and I invited him. Mr. 30 agreed to go and it was great, until I realized he didn’t know the definition of “black tie”. How can someone be 30 years old with a master’s degree and not know that black tie means you wear a tux!?!? I couldn’t believe this was not common knowledge for everyone, I’m still baffled. It turns out wearing a tux was a deal breaker for him which was fine, but what was not fine was how he turned into an asshole while telling me. I didn’t even get one “sorry”. I saw him a few more times after that but things were different. I’d love the chance to ignore Mr. 30 because he deserves that…but I’m still waiting for a reply to my drunk texts sent at an unfortunate time of the morning 2 weeks ago. Can I get that middle finger emoji right about now? ..and maybe a personal assistant to take away my phone every time I drink?