Like most engaged in the online dating world, Tinder has become much like a game or at the very least addicting. It's a love hate relationship. Swiping photos of men donned in their Hans Solo get up or half naked in their Burning Man garb makes on yearn for the days of playing pac man at a bar. It's Russian roulette. If you and your prince charming mutually swipe, your photo and his will vanish into a new platform where you then have the ability to exchange a heartfelt, text messaging relationship. My fingers are crossed.
[An hour later and after meeting THE KNOW IT ALL]
Meet Aaron.
He had a handful of photos that showed an up close of his face (which is a rare occurrence), his ability to have fun and it was endearing to see photos of his daughter that he displayed with great pride. Our text conversation begins by him saying that he was just visiting the Bar Area for work, and the he was leaving the next day to go back to Portland. My initial thought was that Portland wasn't South Africa and it was on my short list of places to visit. "Hey, I lived in Atlanta for 16 years," he said. "Care to grab a drink? I'm meeting friends for happy hour but need to eat after. Maybe we meet at 8pm?" I agree, since he's staying at The Fairmont which is a mere 2 minute scooter ride from my sofa. Prior to arriving, This couldn't be worse than THE KNOW IT ALL, and already I have a general sense that he's fun and flirty, so I have nothing to lose by grabbing a drink and a bite. A text comes in saying, "Be forewarned, I'm comin' in hot. I've had a few cocktails." We meet outside the hotel and I catch his eye as he walks across the street. He's cute, well dressed and from my vantage point, he's maybe 5'5". Off to Nob Hill Cafe we go, and things between us flow, it's easy and I immediately feel comfortable in his presence. We order wine, and more wine, followed by food and as he excuses himself from the table, he kisses me en route to the restroom and the flirtation dial ramps up by a few notches. I like this guy. I feel good and am happy to be exactly where I am. I'm pleasantly surprised at the ease of our conversation and that we've both chosen to be so spontaneous. "I usually don't have dinner on a first Tinder meeting," he says. Neither do I. In fact, first meetings, or drink appointments as they've been coined (thank you Rochelle), typically commence with a glass or two of wine to determine whether of not you want to spend more than 45 minutes with someone, so this is definitely out of the norm.
The alarm goes off promptly at 6am. "Uh, how did that happen?" The level of comfort and ease continued as he showered and got dressed for work. He was telling me more about his back-to-back meetings that he felt so ill-prepared for when both started laughing as our thoughts aligned. "What if I joined you in the meetings as your colleague? Dude, this could be "Meeting Crashers!" There was a split second when the reality of doing this felt far too good. I mean, I was looking for a job, and this could be a perfect opportunity.
A few kisses later, we hugged and said our goodbyes. "Let's do this again, I had an awesome time!" We both smiled and went our separate ways as he said, "I'll see you in the meeting!"