What a concept.
An app for your mobile device that simply shows you pictures of eligible hookups based on your location. Locate a cock. Brilliant. Sign me up! They’ve already taking the hard work out of stating my name and age as the only way you can sign up is through your Facebook. Don’t worry; Tinder won’t post anything about you being a member of Locate-a-Cock to your Facebook wall. God forbid everyone I went to high school with, work with AND family know that I’m on a dating website for hook ups.
So I start.
Hi, I’m Dominica. I’m Italian not Dominican. I am also sweet, funny and curvy around the edges. Damn you cheesecake! You must be taller than 5’10 to ride this ride, love dogs and have a big dick. (Too much? Ok I’ll forego the last part.) I’m not looking to hook up with people in my area as I would prefer to meet new people, date, and see where things go. Drop me an e-mail if you enjoy live music or the occasional comedy club!
There was my first mistake. Thinking I would get more out of Tinder than some middle-aged horn-ball that’s recently divorced with 8 kids, 6 baby mama’s and a management position at Burger King.
Case in point:
Really Will? Sir, you should try hitting on someone your own age. I mean, really? You honestly think I’m going to take you home to meet my father?! Yes Dad. This is Will. He’s 57 and would like to date your 31 your old daughter. I can already picture my dad showing him the gun case. NEXT.
Is that what you say when a lady complements your smile? Ya fuckin’ jerk. NEXT!
Besides these two ass hats I also had the chance to be matched with: an ex, a couple guys from high school, an previous professor, a local bartender, and a few ex-coworkers. (Seems this app is big among the restaurant industry. What else is there to do after midnight on a Tuesday than hook up with that semi cute guy from your sophomore year Studies of War class.)
Ahhhh Tinder. You sure know how to pick ‘em!
After weeks of this I settle on a Tinder Troll. We’ll call him TT. After a few days of mild texting, TT invites me to grab a couple of drinks at a local watering hole. (Fact: Most men on Tinder aren’t asking you to dinner. Let’s be real for a second here. You’re lucky if they pay for your six dollar Jack and Ginger never mind take you to fucking Applebee’s.) We set a time of 8 pm. I get there 20 minutes early as I always do. I’m a control freak and want to make sure I get the seat at the bar to check out the other potential baby dadies!
I order up a cocktail and pull out my phone to flip through more Tinder matches. Hey, if this guy is an ass, I’ll see who else is around! It’s 8:05 and TT strolls in. Thanks for being on time! I give him the friendly hug (two taps on the back) and a typical Dominica “Hiiiii.” He sits down and asks what I’m drinking. I reply with Jack and Ginger and then... BAM! My breath is nearly taken away. TT smiles and say’s “I love a chick that drinks Jack.”
Well TT, I enjoy a man that brushes his teeth and visits his hygienist on a six month basis. This guy’s teeth looked like he hadn’t had a cleaning since 1992. Shit. I never asked for a picture of him smiling!!! Fuck. Shit. Fuck. How am I going to get out of this?!? Do I send an SOS to Goldiecock’s and ask her to call me in a “Something bad happened.” Do I fake sick? Do I chug three more Jack’s, and quickly?!
Nope, I do the polite thing. I stay and tell myself “Suck it up Dominica. You can make it through one drink.” We have the typical first date questions: Do you have any siblings, what do you do for a living, et cetera. After about a half hour I state, “Well, it’s getting late. Thank you for your time. But I’ll be honest with you. I don’t think we’re a good fit. Best of luck to you and on your future endeavors.” I give another friendly pat on the back and chuck a 10 on the bar. I almost contemplated in giving him a dentist reference, but it the first time in a while I showed restraint.
On my drive home I seriously contemplated taking myself off of this site. This isn’t for me. I don’t go out and just hook up. I really want to meet a nice guy (that has a dentist) and also would like marriage and children. I mean seriously Dominica. You’re better than this.
I get home, tell Goldiecock’s everything, and then proceed to deactivate my account. I’ve never been good at hooking up with random strangers.
So what’s the next best thing? I text an ex-boyfriend. “Hey! Are you free to grab drinks Saturday night?!”
I’ll never learn.
Dominica Hernandez is still single and living in Warwick, Rhode Island. These stories are a collection of her experiences. Have a question or comment for Dominica? Email her: DatingDominica@gmail.com