I started using Tinder the day after I moved to my pad. That very same early mornin' I left my hand play the swiping game. I was bored and hungover. So, WTF.
Up until then, I have heard many horror stories about how escort-looking some girls were, and how short, motorcycle lovin' ('cause that is minus 30 pts if you must know), sun glasses wearing to small for their faces, guys were. Well, in my case yes, there were those dudes, a lot of local military folk (I am a big fan as you know, just not in some latitudes) bold dudes at the age of 36 and one that was like: 'hey I am happily married, but let's have fun.' (This dude automatically won 10 pts for honesty) ... and let's call him Steve. Well, Steve looked handsome, had a good selection of pics, was tall, fit, and he was half Canadian and half Panamanian.
I'll take that.
I said... jack-fuckin-pot. Dude gives me a heart and BOOM: It's a match. Dude texts me, dude calls me, we arrange a date and like I said I was moving so I had lots of stuff hanging around and I am not the kind of person who has boxes and paintings laying around forever. So he offered to help me move. I said to myself you know, why not. I can use someone that uses the hammer, the drill etc. etc. FYI I can manage too, very well in fact, but I just didn't want to.
Steve gets home and shit, he is hot. He thought the same as I kinda heard that silent 'Wow' behind the 'Hi'.
He came in, I showed him around, he loved it. We came upstairs and first thing he did was to sit down in my bed and kinda bounced. I was like huh? and also said mentally 'Oh honey I have a rule, nobody gets or sits in my bed wearing street clothes.' I said nothin' cause in this non context, words and actions can be misinterpreted EASILY. I know what you are all thinking: how can she invite a total stranger into her house, didn't she think he could've been a serial killer or a thief or a hacker (that's what I thought) or a rapist or ALL of the above? To be quite frank I did think about it, but I thinking process went someting like this: I have a doorman, a friend is coming, my mom will arrive in a few hours.
So, I felt safe.
Within the first 10 m he said 'Boy you are very beautiful'. I said 'thank you' while I kept on sanding a table.
Listen, I am not a jerk but I do get some things about me.
My friend arrived, my mom arrived -this was not the first time I have made first dates with an audience present- and everyone seemed to be getting along pretty well. Everyone had a chance to talk to each other alone and it all went smoothly except that the dude was all hands and arms and everything in front of my mom and my friend, who knew by know that we just met using TINDER for fuck's sakes. I absolutely love touching people, but this one, dunno, I felt cornered, uneasy. Weird.
Later I found him making a very ellaborate coffee, chatting up my mom, doing the dishes cleaning the kitchen and for a brief second I said, Do I smell bullshit or do I smell bullshit?
My friend left, my mom went to bed and he said, come sit here with me - I gotta say that I didn't have any chairs so the other option was the floor. He didn't approve of the way I was sitting on my hammock so he guided me on 'how to sit'. His way was open legs, mine and his and our crotches kind of locked. Pfff. (I know many tricks in the book, this one made me laugh) but being the cynic I am I was trying to be less of Erik and allowed him to show me his utter most feelings by you know, rubbing our bodies... and this seemed to make him feel right at 'home'.
We shared life stories and at a moment he seemed pretty moved to the point of tears when I shared the story of the tragic death of my father. Hours into the conversation, he grabbed my legs, he kissed my feet (and he was not being shy about it) and I let him. Then, I stood up to check on my mom and when I was going upstairs he said, I guess I can't sleep over, right? In my head I went -What gave you the hint that you were going to sleep over? Was it my reaction everytime you put your hands on me and I moved away? Was the fact that after moving I forgot to buy soap so I washed only with water and I told you about it? Was the clear sign that I didn't shave my legs and you saw them? Was it the mistake I made of forgetting to wear deodorant and laughing while recounting the facts of the day with you? That had to be it, honey- I was deliciously dirty and sweaty so I could enjoy myself in the fact that I was a magnificent, flawless, divine queen, dame of pleasure, that was dying to share the finest of this human after a long couple of days of wrapping, unwrapping, stocking, organizing, sanding, painting.
Steve, said: Can I see you tomorrow? Believe or not I said yes.
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