After a month and a half of dating in the real world, or lack thereof, I caved and I am back to the online world. Although trying to date offline was an interesting experiment, it seems that the only way to get a date is through my phone.
So, operation swipe, is on. Three days of a lot of left swiping and I got to the end of Tinder. After running out of swipes and suffering a mild carpal tunnel, I have only 14 matches. Quality over quantity... right?
A couple monosyllabic conversations later and I am having good case of deja vu.
So, in a moment of weakness I decide to download Grindr.
It seems that a month off the apps is like five years in the dating app world because I was approached by the exact same guys that had approached me before I deleted the app. The same guys whose conversation went nowhere and who I never met. Apparently Gay Amnesia is a thing because none of them remember talking to me before.
The thing is. I never forget a face. A name yes. A face? Never.
Five Deja Vus in. I start chatting with another guy who I had already chatted before and who's gAy-DD (Gay Attention Deficit Disorder) had left me in mid conversation a couple of months before.
Apparently, the grass was greener on my turf this time as he was really chatty and actually kind of charming. After texting for a couple of days about everything from politics to food to music, he decided to ask me for a drink. He was great and charming on text so I say yes.
I am all about good vibes and chemistry but I have never heard of dating fang shui. Apparently it is a thing, as my date decided to change our seats not once but three times because he was not feeling the fang shui . The first time the table was too small, the second time seats were not comfy and the third time it was the lighting and the ice machine at the bar.
We ended up sitting at the bar. Where I am told that the bartender at this bar is a genius. He was actually very run of the mill and super cranky.
My date then decides to have what seems like a ten minute conversation about his drink with the bartender. Followed by another five minutes of looking at the bartender making his drink. So far, we haven't gone beyond small talk so I seek refuge in the menu.
Reluctant to order any food and not inspired by both the menu or the conversation. I am told by my date to order something. "Order food" he says. "You should order an app" he insists. Order taken.
After a clunky conversation about our careers. He decides to tell me that I look like a drug lord. I guess that's the equivalent of telling me I am a masculine or butch. Given the circumstances I take the compliment.
The food arrives and I am again told to eat. This time off his plate. He insists that I must eat some of the shrimps in the dish he ordered. Then a long debate ensues about what one of the ingredients in the dish was. It was an olive but my date insisted it was fish delicately cut into a small circle. I insist it is an olive. He insists it is fish. I say olive. He asks the bartender. The bartender says dryly "It is an olive".
This was the highlight of the night.
Once the debate is done, I got to know a little more about my date as he goes full charming and tells me he is a lone wolf with not a lot of friends. He was working hard selling himself and I was working hard trying to find a way to go home. The check comes and I decide that I want to walk home but so does he.
I wish I could say this is when I ran away to seek refuge but things became evern more bizarre as my date went apeshit and started blabbing like 2 year old the moment he saw a dog on the street. He then gave me the saddest tour of the city when he pointed out all the places that he goes to, alone, by choice.
We say goodbye and I am left with high hopes of hitting my head and getting good case of gay amnesia.