After using Tinder for a few weeks, I had some pretty deep conversations with randos— such as: “how was your weekend," “doing anything fun for the holiday,” and my absolute favorite, “you’re parents must have named you Summer because you're hot.” I started to realize people weren't here to find their soul mates; most of them weren't bright enough to even hold a conversation. I was still mesmerized by the human trash heap that I had met a few weeks prior and decided to take my research back to the streets again; this time I decided I needed a few rules to keep me safe during my fieldwork. I would now only meet up with dudes in public places that were well lit and crowded.
I accepted a date to grab a drink with “The Dog Dad” at a brewery near my parents house. We met up for this drink and had a pleasant time chatting about our lives and our dogs. He was charming and funny; we had zero awkward silences. After having a beer and chatting for a few hours, he told me he had been dying to try this new recipe he found on Pinterest with pineapple. He was literally speaking to my soul at that point. Against all the new rules I had put on my dating life, I decided to go back to his house to have dinner.
His house was immaculate. The carpet was beautiful, soft, and white. The couches had throw pillows on them like a staged house right before a showing. I was stunned. He started rummaging through his fridge and cabinets for the ingredients to make this Pinterest meal. I perched myself upon the bar, fully prepared to make conversation while he prepared dinner. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the other side of the counter and informed me that no one gets to just watch in his kitchen. This room was immediately transformed into a scene from that one old movie with the pottery bullshit, yeah thats the one. We’re cutting pineapple and making teriyaki sauce from scratch then he tries to kiss me. Fine, one little kiss. No, he threw me against the wall and started assaulting my face with his tongue. I pulled away just long enough to utter the words, “Bathroom?” He pointed me toward his bathroom and I sprinted down the hall. I peered into his bedroom briefly, which was as spotless as the rest of the house. ThIs made me suspicious because he supposedly had a husky and there was literally no hair or dog in the house.
After searching his medicine cabinets and just wasting a few minutes while he cooled down in the kitchen, I returned. The dog thing was really driving me crazy so I blurted it out. He said his dog was visiting his parents in Canada—because that makes sense, right? He said dinner was done and we had dinner in complete silence. He made rice which was crunchy because he didn't use a lid to steam it. I wondered if this was the first time he had actually ever cooked. After pushing the disgusting half cooked mess of a meal around my plate he picked up our plates and rinsed them off. I assumed the date was over and started to gather my things, thats when he slammed me against yet another wall and started to assault my mouth again. I pushed him off me. He apologized and told me I just looked so beautiful. I almost gagged. Finally he coaxed me into having a seat with him on his leather couch (yet again another red flag, dog owners don't have nice couches) where he tried to assault my face once more. I told Him I should be going and politely tried to leave. He didn't like that idea. He wanted to show me one video really quick from his trip to some dumb place I didn't care about by that point. I agreed because I cannot be rude to strangers. While he was looking for his computer charger, I called my dad 15 times and hung up. I prayed to God for help getting out of there.
About 5 minutes later and one more failed attempt by Dog Dad to get me to sleep with him, my dad returned my phone calls. I told him I had to answer his call because my dad never calls me and that usually means something is wrong. I grabbed my purse and went outside to “answer” but instead got into my car and drove away. My dad asked me why I was calling during a date and if I was okay. I said I was fine, I just missed him and that I would be home in a few minutes so we could get dinner together. This was probably the first time I have ever been dying to answer my dad’s phone call— I mean his name is “Answer Do Not” in my phone for pete’s sake. I hope my father never reads these… thankfully he is illiterate.
