First dates always have the ability to end in disaster.Online, it’s even more possible for terror to ensue.A filmmaker with full sleeves from Happn told me about his underground fight club.One handsome DJ who slid into my Instagram DMs described, in detail, every single sad salad he ate for lunch that week.
In the noughties era of tech, it was phones (One Missed Call), television (Ring), games (Stay Alive) and reality shows (My Little Eye) that were out to get us.
On a Tinder date, a comedian (that was my first mistake), gave me a 45 minute lecture on John Mayer, was offended when I tried to leave as the restaurant closed, then proceeded to tell me to “Have a nice life,” when I wouldn’t return to his home…then texted me for weeks afterwards.
A handsome Hinge date prattled on about his gay soccer league and the bars they frequented, full of glory holes.
He wasn't supposed to stay the night, but he lived 45 minutes away, it had snowed earlier, and I lived in a very rural area with a lot of hills and curves.
So he decided he was going to stay that night instead of driving home.