My phone blows up. 8 text messages in the course of 15 minutes. Each text begs me to go to my Tinder app and read the messages sent over the course of the past 7 minutes.
The messages were from the 27 year old Burlesque artist I had met a few days earlier. The 30 something leggy brunette was AWOL visiting her family some where in the deserts of Utah where they had a winter house so in a fit of lonesome peak that would make Hank Williams Sr proud I decided to try out Tinder so I could be one of the cool kids.
As I sat in the Lock and Key on Vermont swiping left wondering if these people had ever heard of the advent of the lightbulb I swiped right on an attractive 27 year old Honey blonde with purple streaks in her hair. Then she swiped right and not 30 minutes later she was sitting next to me in a silver dress slit all the way up to her upper thigh.
How hard can this social meeting dating thing be if lovely creatures like this lurking about. Am I right?
We started discussing her upcoming trip to Vegas. She wanted me to teach her how to gamble, specifically how to play a One Armed Bandit. After the shock of realizing that yes she was serious wore off, I started to explain the concept of vending machines and casinos to her when her phone blew up. She slipped me her number, kissed me on both cheeks and ran out into the East Hollywood night to meet her ‘girls.’
It appears this Tinder thing was going to be far more confusing than I thought. I did the right thing, at least it was the right thing when I was actively courting the Once and Future Ex, and sent her a text saying it was lovely to meet her.
I had put this into the nothing ventured nothing gained category so this text and Tinder fest was welcome even if it was oddly timed. I suppose I was holding out hope she might actually want to go out again. I opened the Tinder app and we started chatting.
Me: Hey there! How was Vegas?
Her: I had a blast.
Me: I love that town.
Her: Me too! Can I ask you a question?
Me: Fire away.
Her: I was gonna ask you if you would want to spend time with me and at the same time help me
Quid pro quo.
Me: What kind of help do you need?
Her: Financial. It’s hard being on your own.
Me: Parents can’t help huh?
Her: No!!! They disowned me when they found out I was a Burlesque artist! If not it’s ok no worries I think you’re a really cool guy. I was just seeing if we could both gain. Maybe I have something you are missing
Me: To be honest In the middle of two projects this year so before I answer either way I have to check with my lawyer and accountant.
Her: Haha!! Ok you do what you do. Remember, I don’t mind scratching your back as long as you got mine! Life is a give and take no matter how you spin it.
Me: How much are you looking for?
Her: Enough for a down payment and something I can count on steadily for my time. My Trust fund pays my bills but I need more and I deserve it.
Me: We all do.
Her: Not all do but I deserve it.
Me: I understand.
Her: I know you do !! That’s why I liked you from day one 🙂 Let me know if you wanna get together.
Me: Let me talk to my people and see what the year is going to look like.
Her: You’re awesome! We would have the best times together!
Me: I’m sure we would.
Her: And I promise when we go out I’ll have makeup on and look like Khloe Kardashian for you. Sleep tight!
With that I turned over and went to sleep. I assumed that exchange was some a drunken sext or bootie call of some type that went sideways quickly. The surprise came at 11:00am. My phone blew up with another 8 texts begging me to log on to Tinder.
Her: Did you talk to your people?
Me: Yes. My lawyer and accountant threatened to kill me if I keep you in a non traditional sense. However they told me I get tremendous tax advantages if we get married.
Shockingly, I haven’t heard from her in some time.