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So I’ve decided to start documenting my dating escapades.

I mean, if I’m going to suffer, I might as well bring you guys along with me, right?

*All names are changed for anonymity. I’m not a total monster.*

Kevin: The one I fell in love with

Mom, if you’re reading this one, you shouldn’t. So sorry. Love you.

So, as I warned you all in the last episode, most of these stories start on Tinder. This one is no different.

I was scrolling with a purpose. I need a man. And everyone knows Tinder is the place to find one of those. And also I love self-destruction. Not the point, let’s continue.

I saw this one profile and stopped dead in my finger-tracks. The cutest man I had seen on the app that day (which is saying a lot, the pond is pretty dry right now): Kevin. Curly brown hair, dark brown eyes, and the brightest smile. A film guy. With a cat! This one would hurt, but surely it would hurt so good. 

We matched. His bio said ‘looking for an allen key.’ I don’t know what an allen key is, but my first message to him (I messaged him first, that’s how badly I wanted this man) was a promise I had one for him, to which he eagerly replied. We had great banter for all of five minutes, before it took a turn in a direction I didn’t want. Sigh. 

We’ll lose sponsorships if I start getting into specifics (we actually don’t have sponsorships, yet, however, I would like to have some one day, so…), but I’m sure you can fill in the blanks here. 

Kevin, no!

However, I wanted Kevin in whatever capacity I could have him, so, instead of simply unmatching him like I should have done, I redirected the conversation back into funny, friendly banter. 

Crisis averted!

For all of five more minutes, before he tried again. 

Alright, fine. You win, Kevin! I’ll be a wh*re. 

After three days of me trying to be friendly and him trying to be, well, much more than friendly, he successfully convinced me to come to his apartment. At 9 PM. On a Wednesday night. Great decision making on my end. (PLEASE do not be like me.)

We need to talk about Kevin

Okay, realistically, I got there at, like, 11 PM. And, to no one’s surprise, Kevin had an agenda. He had to wake up at 6 AM, which I found out when I got to his apartment. I was sleeping there, so that meant I also had to wake up at 6 AM. Kevin, why?

Kevin was so adorable in person, I couldn’t believe this was the same man trying so relentlessly to get in my pants. He seemed too sweet for that! He was awkward, he was quiet, he was shy, he was… handsy, very quickly. I mean, bro didn’t even turn the TV on. 

We talked a little bit about zodiac signs (he’s an Aquarius, like me! Clearly, this would be much more than a hookup because we’re so compatible, right? I can change him), and I did a tarot reading for him, where I discovered he went through a breakup three weeks before. Perfect! That totally didn’t just dim any glimmer of hope I had for this incredibly hopeless endeavor. 

He told me a little about his situation. I told him a little bit about mine (specifically, how badly my life sucked at the moment–remember this for later).

And then our fifteen minutes of ice-breakers were up! Kevin moved quickly and wasted no time. 

After, we layed in his bed, and I couldn’t fall asleep, so I did what I do best: I kept asking him whatever question popped into my head. I asked him if he had parents–exactly like that, too, a very normally phrased question. I asked him what music he listened to, I asked him if he had any coffee (the answers, in case you’re wondering: yes, classic rock, and no, he didn’t even have a microwave). 

He asked me to rate his restaurant–a bit I’m not sure how or where it originated from, but one we had fun with nonetheless. I should also add that he’s a Gemini moon and rising, so talking to him felt like talking to someone who has their own inside jokes that you will never be a part of, like you’re third-wheeling a two person conversation (because, I mean, you kind of are). As is the case with anyone with Gemini placements I’ve ever spoken to, I thought he was hilarious; I don’t think he thought the same of me.

We both fell asleep eventually, him much sooner than I, and after being asleep for what felt like two solid minutes, it was 6 in the morning, and, thus, time to wake up. 

He walked me to my car, gave me a hug, and said, “I hope your life gets better!”

Clearly, I’m no expert on men. But this was probably the clearest “I’m never speaking to you again” I’ve ever gotten from anyone. Ever. 

Kevin! No! Kevin, come back! Kevin, I love you!

I got in my car, drove to work (where I was about two hours early, great!), and never spoke to Kevin again. 

This was about two weeks ago. I’m still hopeful. I mean, hey, it’s the holidays, right? People are busy!

But, yeah, no I’m probably never speaking to Kevin again. Unfortunate, because I left my contact solution and one of my favorite pairs of socks at his apartment. 

What did we learn?

We don’t sleep with men just for the sake of potentially getting them to fall in love with us, we all say in unison.

And also, make sure you don’t kick your socks off in some random place in his apartment where you’ll forget them later. 

And also, we don’t sacrifice our work and sleeping schedules for a man we don’t know. 

And also, we don’t go to random strangers’ apartments at 11 PM. 

And probably at least twenty other things–I mean, all around, this was just terrible decision making on my end. 

But! You all will be the first to know if Kevin ever reaches out again. Pinky promise.