The Magic of Tinderella

So it begins: the tell-all blog of my dating life.

This past summer, my 4 year relationship from college ended. I had also landed a job with a young company that made me incredibly happy. So, diving into my work seemed natural and consumed most of my time. 

Well, 60 hour weeks don’t set up a girl in a big city for much of a dating life.

And, as we all know, the best way to get OVER someone, is to get UNDER someone else.

Ah, the magic of technology. Tinder, Match, Coffee Meets Bagel, personal referrals from my network, Grouper, Plenty of Fish… the list goes on..

Here is the problem: quick and popular online dating avenues takes away the one thing that fuels dating someone forward–chemistry.

If I look at the pictures of the men I have loved in my past, I would never have “swiped-right” given the opportunity to choose. We can’t pick who we love. YET, these magical sites allow us to. They allow us to judge, by physical appearance and wit, people geographically close to you and decide whether or not they are the next MR. RIGHT.

It all seems so silly and counter-intuitive.

And it is.

Which brings me to this blog: the stories and tribulations of dating in the city of love, San Francisco. Where dating is easy, finding a relationship isn’t, and it’s all a crazy adventure.

Get ready.

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Caught in a lie

Caught myself lying to my stitch fix stylist today.

Self corrected to be more honest.

The CEO asshole

He was British, ticklish and a co-founder of a well known startup. Not to mention tall, dark, handsome (#TDH).

He was my first, real, sleezy tinder moment.

Up until this point I had used tinder as not so much the hookup sight it’s known to be, but the reason for getting a first date. Little did I know Mr. UK had a game plan and agenda from the beginning.

Step 1: Match!
Step 2: Engage in witty banter.

Mind you, we matched on a Friday at 8PM. I already had plans and went out with my girlfriends.

Step 3: Agree to check in later, possibly have a drink, keep it open.

Step 4: GET TOASTED.

When I realized I had instigated a torched sparkler-bottle of champagne at my friends bar, it was time to pour myself into a cab and go home.

Well at 11:30 I get a text from Mr.UK that he wants to meet up.
Now.
Tonight only.

I’m wasted at this point, so I lay in bed and flirt text back to avoid anything serious from happening.
He calls me to close in.
THAT ACCENT…
It got me.

Step 5: Fall for a sleezy accent and sleezy, pushy texts..

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Step 6: I agree to ONE drink.
Step 7: Get in an Uber and hustle to a bar near his place.

DUMB MOVE as it’s 1:45 AM.

We met on the sidewalk and besides having been past last call, he blames leaving his wallet at his place around the corner and suggests we go there quickly.

Step 8: Realize your being gamed and accept it.

Side note: the normal, sober me would have never agreed to such a late night booty call. Without even buying me a drink? He got lucky. The drunker girls are the cheaper they can be at times. I blame bourbon on this occasion.

I will also say I would never just walk into a strange, foreign man’s house on just any old night either. immediately think Broken Down Palace meets The Killing.However, I knew this guys company, I’d seen his name in magazines and listened to him present at Tech Conferences before.. I felt like he wasn’t the Hannibal Lector profile.

Or, I was just a drunk fool looking to make a mistake. Combine that with one hot accent and BINGO- I’m on his couch.

Step 9: Realize not only is he hot and successful, but a complete asshole too!

Asshole Highlights:
-Cheesy pickup lines are followed by stories of his company, and oh, how he founded it and is the CEO
-Insert a few memories from one of the most prestigious firms in the world and rowing/sailing/archery at one of the most prestigious Universities abroad
-Mention the massive sailboat several times that he’s leaving on to watch America’s Cup in the morning
-Don’t forget to mention his famous college and consulting firm again, “have you ever heard of it?” (Yes, I grew up on planet earth therefore I have an idea)

Step 10: Engage in strange but intriguing games on the top of his bed to make him shut up.

He would not kiss me on the lips.
There was so sex, of any kind.
Just some weird junior high version of hooking up… I can’t even describe it.

It was hot, but different. It reminded me of those teasing games Cosmo Magazine suggests you play to spice things up.

Kiss your man all over without ever letting him lock lips with yours. The tension will drive him crazy, leading him to squirm and struggle until finally giving in and grabbing you to make out in a steamy panic of erotica

Ok, my only attempt at recreating what those magazines say..

Step 11: Realize this game isn’t going anywhere serious, roll over and pass out for a few hours.

Step 12: Write “CALL ME <3″on his mirror and sneak out while he is showering in the morning.

A good old Irish goodbye for my failure to launch (or I guess, kiss) Brit.

Step 13: Go home and begin the Facebook stalk.

What normal girl wouldn’t try to find their recent conquest on FB.

Step 14: Realize he is FBO (Facebook Official) with a girl in the UK

ASSHOLE.

The Green Mile

First tinderella match: Chris Brown doppelgänger.

No joke! He was tall, dark and handsome. His tagline was “new to SF” which is the most romantic idea to us city girls. We dream about exploring the beautiful 7×7 and falling in love simultaneously. Isn’t that where the whole “I left my heart in San Francisco” concept comes from?

We exchange numbers and begin texting.

I tell him what I do– to remain vague, my job is awesome and involves working with amazing tech startups. He was completely blown away. Like, flabbergasted.

Red flag number one.
Everyone in SF is one degree away from someone in tech– why was this so exciting and unheard of?

This begged the question: what do you do for a living?

…….

He was an officer on death row at San Quentin.

He called it the “q”…

I haven’t decided on whether I would feel safe around him, or completely frightened at the fact he is the guy injecting the poison to inmate #415 when it comes time.

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