Encounter #58.1: Gay or European?

App: Tinder

Name: Andre*

Date Location: Atlas Public House – Jersey City

Location Review:  4.0 Stars – I wish I had been to this place sooner. Happy hour deals were on point, food looked good, and had good vibes overall.

Date Duration: 3 hours

What Happened:

Andre had that je ne sais quoi quality that made me want to learn more. Based on his photos he was either really really hot or busted as shit and I needed to find out.

He lived on the other side of my neighborhood which was a huge plus and he was from France so he had a lot in common with my Canadian ass. When he asked me out it felt oddly respectful. He didn’t tell me where we were going but to meet outside the McDonald’s by one of the train stations. Different vibe but I was there for it.

He walked up and fortunately looked like his hot pictures. Halleloo! He was quite tall, probably 6’5″, dark hair, and dressed all cute and European. We walked a few buildings down to this bar neither one of us had been to yet.

I want to say conversation was good but tbh I had no idea what he said for the first 15 minutes. He had a pretty thick French accent, the music was a hair too loud, and I was sitting just far enough away that I had to gauge the whole conversation on his facial expressions. Eventually I got the hang of things and we managed to have a normal conversation.

We had a lot in common. With him being French and my family being from Canada we had a lot to talk about. There were certain foods our families made, we knew Celine Dion’s best work, and we both could appreciate old ass French names.

There were a few differences. To start, I’m trashy AF. We were talking about dating and in France they like to get as close to a person without actually kissing them. This is why hand kisses are a thing there. I then told him that in NJ, we shove tongues down the other’s throat. Oops.

Weirdly enough, we had the SAME music taste. Lady Gaga, Kesha, and Pitbull. Also, we both frequented gay bars and loved to dance. Perhaps a red flag? Or, possibly the best thing to happen to both of us?

We had a few drinks and it was starting to get a bit late. We were headed in the same direction so we took the train together. Before we split we went to the side to say our goodbyes. He said, in what I took to be a flirtatious tone, “We can do this the French way”. I took this the wrong way. I went in thinking we were going to le French kiss. So I went in, he swerved, I realized what happened, and we both went “OH GOD. Sorry!” We hugged, I went on my way, and never spoke again.

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Encounter #57.1: Drink, Drank, Drunk

App: Tinder

Name: Sebastian*

Date Location: A Mexican spot on the Upper East Side, Sugar East & The Jeffrey

Location Review:  3.5 Stars – Drinks and atmosphere were good but service was slow and they close early.

2.0 Stars – Pretentious AF. Attracts a “Gossip Girl” crowd and trust fund babies. Doesn’t serve Bud Light.

4.0 Stars – Tight space but has a ton of craft beer options including cider and has a cozy vibe.

Date Duration: 4 hours

What Happened:

During a night of “How Hot Can I Bag” Sebastian came across my phone screen and I swiped right immediately. Boy was a snack and somehow we matched.

Conversation with him was easy. Pretty quickly we moved to texting and he kept up. For once, I didn’t have to carry the team and I was excited. He asked me out and plans were set.

He lived on the Upper East Side so I ventured into the city for his ass. I waited outside the bar and was pleasantly surprised that he looked as attractive as his photos. The bar he picked was pretty packed so we walked about a block down to another spot. Despite being physically attracted to him, I wasn’t sure where I stood with him. He wasn’t talking all that much and his voice was kind of flat. Was he just monotone or was he disappointed?

We sat down on some couches and I noticed he put his arm on the cushion behind me. I guess I wasn’t that ugly? The conversation between us wasn’t too bad, it definitely livened up after a drink though. He grew up in Michigan and came from a big, conservative, Catholic family (he stressed the conservative Catholic thing a bit more than I was comfortable with) and worked in consulting. As the conversation went on I realized that not only was his voice that fucking flat but, his arm moved from the couch to my shoulder. Things were getting spicy.

He slowly moved closer and closer and I was slowly losing interest. Things weren’t terrible, I just wasn’t feeling it. Then before I knew it I sucked down 3 sangrias and his face was an inch from mine. We kissed.

It was okay. Nothing earth shattering but I figured I should give him a shot. After all, things weren’t bad and I had already made it all the way out there. May as well get my money’s worth on that subway fare.

We kept chatting and he was getting on my nerves. He wouldn’t let shit go. He found out I did marching band in high school and college and it was “so weird” to be out with me since he was a jock back in the day. *eye roll*

He also wouldn’t stop saying how sexy I was and kept making out with me mid-sentence. Thank you for the compliments, I appreciate it. But, I actually want to get to know your ass. Leave me alone.

For whatever reason, I thought this shit would get better if we moved to another bar. We were sitting on a couch so maybe if we weren’t, he would stop trying to suck out my tonsils. I was wrong.

We moved to yet another bar and at this point I knew I was getting drunk. I backed off and got a beer that was like 4-5% ABV. He went for a stronger beer. Fuck. The whole time he kept making out with me and going on and on and on about how hot I was. (I mean thanks but chill). I signaled to the bartender for the check and this motherfucker wanted to walk out. WTF. I threw my card down and left a solid tip for this poor guy.

To get to the train, we had to walk by Sebastian’s apartment and he kept pulling me to try to get me upstairs. I kept saying no and eventually he backed off and went up solo. As soon as I heard the door click shut behind him I unmatched and blocked that fucker. Good. Night.

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