Tindr

Tindr ain't shit.

I had to start by saying that because it's what I think every time I see that pathetic reddish flame against the white square on the icon. I felt the same way--to a lesser degree--when I first began to use the app a little over three weeks ago.

I rolled my eyes as I swiped left on every generic yt guy who was a carbon copy of the other outdoor loving, microbrew drinking border-collie-blue-heeler-mix techie on the site. Liek holy fuck, I had no idea so many clones were milling around the Downtown-Belltown-SLU area. No wonder I avoid that area like the fucken Plague.

I had decided to use the app after a friend told me I might find scute guys to hookup with, since Craigslist was drying up fast. CL runs in cycles, of which I have almost developed an algorithm, but that's another post ;)

Anyhow, this friend assured me I might be able to locate decent normie guys to rub parts with before kicking them out of my house. I rolled my eyes, and downloaded the app, then rolled my eyes again as I saw the selection.

A few days in, Tindr was wearing me down. My standards had lowered and I'd become much less selective about who I swiped right with. I was even swiping right on :gasp: yt guys. I'm still rolling my eyes, because, yt guys. Especially normie ones in Seattle/PNW. :rolls eyes:

And hen something unexpected happened. I matched with a yt normie guy.

Sorry not sorry, they all look the same to me, so I had to remember extra hard why I'd swiped right on this dude to begin with. It turns out he'd had a concise, clever description, as well as mentioned being a 'proud Hufflepuff' in his profile and I--rabid HP fan and Hufflepuff that I am--felt a connection. I'm going to assume I wasn't overly sleep-deprived.

And then something else unexpected happened.  He msg'd me. And thus began our connection.

I'm still surprised, tbh. If you know me, you know I actively avoid yt men and any type of interaction with them. I'd rather walk through the spider exhibits in a zoo. Btw I hate zoos and have an irrational fear of spiders. And I'd rathe endure both than engage with yt men.

Or so I thought....

D and I chatted via Tindr for about a week, though my Gut Feeling told me well before then that this yt guy had serious Potential. To which I, of course, rolled my eyes. Late one Friday night--I blame it on dehydration--I ask if D wants to text. To which he replies yes, enthusiastically. And our conversation switches mediums and becomes more engaging.

Now, at this point, I'm relying solely on my Gut Feelings. I've gotten into a LOT of trouble for thinking (literally) I know better than my Gut. I don't. I am humbled repeatedly by the wisdom of my Gut. I'd like to think Nancy's Whole Milk Yogurt is helpful in that regard. But I digress...

I had a Feeling about this yt guy, from the first message HE sent ME, and decided to go along with what my GF told me.

GF told me to keep responding to his nice and polite msgs. We have similar interests and I'm good at small talk--it wasn't hard, yet I made an actual effort. GF told me this was a nice guy. I rolled my eyes and started to get a lil thirsty. GF told me to chill the fuck out and play it low. Ii huffed, but did so anyway. GF told me to start thinking of places to meet up. I rolled my eyes. GF told me to ask him to meet up. I rolled my eyes and did it, and he said yes, enthusiastically. I raised my eyebrows, and still played it low. Then D asked ME if I still wanted to meet up. I giggled and rolled my eyes.

We made plans to meet up. I was through rolling my eyes, and actually starting to sweat a little bit. Just a lil, mind. Because thus far, this dude has kept my interest, which is no small feat, AND I had strong GF about him.

And he asked me for my pronouns.

A cis yt guy. Asked me for my pronouns.

I don't live in Olympia. he didn't read as a punk bro from his photos.

And he asked me my pronouns.

Not gonna lie, I fell out, dragged myself back into my chair. And proceeded to fall out again.

I could tell he wasn't as mediocre as the other dudes on Tindr, even before he asked me this question. He doesn't have the stock border collie mutt dog, which is important. He also said some other intriguing things that are part of Exhibits B&G. And he was all about coming to my hood and letting me choose what we did on our date, which let me know he's not a centrol freak.

It was a date, btw. The first I've gone on in.... I'll just let that sentence hang, cuz it's been more than a minute.

That Friday, I was nervous. I admit it. I had a wardrobe malfunction (twice) and left the house late heading to Columbia Park. We're nerds, so it made sense to meet near a library. And what took it to the next level was that Music Under the Stars had a string quartet playing in the park. I almost shit myself, it was like out of my fucken dreams. If D had stood me up, I wouldn't have cared because that violin was EVERYTHING I needed that night.

But D did show up, and as soon as I saw him, my thought were "OMFGay what a flaming fag. I got this. Bro, I got this so on loc." And the rest is history.

We spent a minute in Columbia City before coming back to my place. I had put in Efforts to make sure my new room was presentable and company-worthy. Not THAT kind of company, but hanging out company. I ain't about that CL lyfe rn :sniffs: :smirks:We chatted in my backyard (it's gorgeous; you'll have to swing by one day) and then up to my room.

Now, not gonna lie, I had Intentions for D. Not like that, cuz I ain't about that lyfe at the mo  and I didn't even have a mattress, so. More the the effect of "I bet I could cuddle with this guy on the first date." And I did. What can I say--I want what I want, and I go after it. :3 There was some kissing action as well, and it was nice. Often in this life I feel like I don't have access of capability of having nice things. It was nice to have that disproven, if sonly for a night.

We have plans to see each other again (duh).

And, still, Tindr ain't shit.

Safety Net

Some days lately, it's been overwhelming to really understand that there is no help pay my expenses, or  $100 for interview clothes, or just-becasue money.

Some days lately, it's frightening to know that the only thing securing my shelter is an arbitrary number in the 700s and a piece of plastic.

Some days lately, the weight of hurt and betrayal of being constantly shown and told that I am not important enough to be supported financially bites deeper than the leather of any belt against the soft flesh of my childhood.

Some days lately, I know if I fall, there is no safety net. 

And I realise I've been falling for a very long time.