Here are three more dates to prove that Tinder-fellas can range from being sweet (with a cherry on top) to downright dodgy.
If you’ve read #TeamFemale’s previous dating diaries (here and here), you’ll know that it can be pretty tricky picking out a decent lad to play the digital love game. After all, it all boils down to each player’s end goal: are you looking for a serious relationship, casual sex or simply in it for an ego boost? Because even after maximising your matches, those goals ultimately determine whether your conversations are going to a) progress outside the app, b) end prematurely after a half-hearted “Hey, how’re you?” or c) remain non-existent. So, here are three new scenarios – and let’s begin with the ugly.
“Titanic. That’s my ice breaker.” That’s how this British boy started the conversation (possibly with all his other matches too), followed by a “Hey there, lil miss.” He was kinda cute, but after going through his pictures, I realised there wasn’t a single photo of him smiling (with teeth). Problem: I couldn’t see (the condition of) his teeth – what if he has bad teeth? Yes, I have a thing about teeth. Our conversation went pretty well the week after; he was friendly, as mentioned in his profile description, until the day before we were supposed to meet.
“I have a friend putting on a shindig down Mont Kiara tonight. But I’m open to suggestions on Sunday.” Come Sunday evening, he was MIA. Last seen: yesterday at 8pm. One week later, an apology text comes in. Reason: drunk-and-lost-my-phone excuse. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Another Sunday date was set. Unfortunately, he turned out to be the boy who cried wolf. Okay, next!
Prior to swiping right, I was a bit hesitant because according to his profile, we have over 300 common connections. Pro: I could do a little background check by asking around. Con: what if my friend(s) used to date him?
As he was quick with replying texts, our ‘date’ was arranged in a jiffy. We meet at a bar, but he wasn’t the only one I was meeting that night. He came with a bunch of pals too and we all sat at the same lounge table. A few awkward silences later (punctuated by several mini conversations and helpful swigs of bubbly), he began telling me about his family, work, hobbies, and (wait for it) the somewhat-lavish things he owns and ‘manly’ activities he’s into. Right. *insert eye-roll emoji*
We continued partying till the wee hours of the morning and I got home tired and sleepy. He’s a nice guy no doubt, but I couldn’t help thinking that he’s a bit poyo. Also, I wasn’t a fan of his choice of perfume…
I think I spent a good five minutes inspecting his pictures before deciding to swipe right. Initially I was feeling 50-50, but after coming across a topless photo of him by the beach (perfect pecs, sun-kissed skin and a chiselled jaw) – that was the deal maker! Never mind that I couldn’t locate his eyebrows in some of his pictures (he’s extremely blonde, which isn’t my usual suspect) cos the aforementioned photo was a solid 10. See how important photos are on Tinder?
Due to our clashing work and travel schedules, we finally only meet after about a month of texting via Whatsapp, where I learnt that he was a towering 6’2″. Great, because I’m only 5’3″ (for the record, I wore heels on our date but I was still a head shorter FML). We meet for dinner and drinks (he made sure I wasn’t driving that night) overlooking the Twin Towers. Our exchange of smiles and stories was seamless – we had really good chemistry, which surpassed my expectations; it was as though I’d known him for longer! Plus, he footed the bill at the end of the night and it was refreshing for once… after aeons. Bonus: his perfume was on-point. Right now, he’s still travelling but we’re keeping in touch for the next date(s)!