“I am so sick of guys!” I told my friend Kathy after another horrible date. I was also tired of meeting guys at bars or at school as they either came on too strong sexually (no thank you) or pretended to be interested in me just to get some (and no thank you).
“Why do you go on Tinder?” Kathy suggested. “It’s a fun app to meet people and not be serious at all.”
Not serious? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much when it all comes crashing down, I thought.
And so I created my profile and started swiping away – mostly left as I rejected most guys. Especially those who’s profiles said, “skinny chicks only,” or “leaving tonight, hook ups only.” But, I did swipe right on a cutie named Seth. He was so handsome and only lived 10 miles away. He thought I was cute too. And so we made a match!
“The cat in your picture seems friendly!” he wrote when he messaged me the following morning. We continued communicating via messenger and talked on the phone consistently for a few days.
Soon, we decided to meet in person in a public place. I also didn’t feel it was smart for him to pick me up at my house and basically get into a stranger’s car. So I met him at a Starbucks. It was pouring and my hair frizzed up so bad. I even had to wear my clunky, unflattering rain boots. All my trains were running behind schedule, which means I was late. Not a great start to a date. Plus, I was nervous. I was about to meet up with a stranger! What if he wasn’t who he said he was? What if I didn’t recognize him?
I finally arrived and immediately recognized him from his profile picture.
“Hey there, you look great,” he said as he hugged me. Me? My hair is in a frizzy bun and my face is oily due to the heat in the subway, but thanks, I thought.
We sat down and began to chat. I learned that we are both Colombian, from the same exact city, and both like cats. He also brought an extra large umbrella that day for us to share and offered me his arm as we strolled down Broadway to a restaurant. While at the restaurant, we ordered appetizers and drinks. The guacamole was amazing, but suddenly I felt awful. Cold sweats took over my body. I was shaking. My stomach was killing me – I was going to puke.
“Hey so, I’m having a really, really great time but I’m not really feeling well,” I admitted. “In fact, not to alarm you or anything, but I’m going to the bathroom to throw up!”
Seth helped me out of the booth. I went to the bathroom, puked my brains out, cried, and was happy to see that he had packed up our leftovers and paid. My hero.
He offered me his arm again as we walked under his umbrella to Union Square in NYC. While walking there, I dropped all of our food. It literally poured out of the containers onto the sidewalk. Screw up, like, number three or four. He thought it was funny though. He then looked in my eyes and kissed me. He didn’t even care about my puke breath. That’s true love. Or at least it was the beginning of something.