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My Tinder Bender Date #13 -- The Unemployed Guy

I've been pretty spoiled since I've been on Tinder. It's time for me to buy some drinks for a dude. This is the "Christina Gives Back" Tinder date. Plus, I just got a Trillium cheque in the mail. That should cover the tab. I message him first. Hey dude. How's Tindering going?
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He's unemployed. For some girls, that might be a turn off, but I think,

"Sweet. A drinking buddy for week nights."

I've been pretty spoiled since I've been on Tinder. It's time for me to buy some drinks for a dude. This is the "Christina Gives Back" Tinder date. Plus, I just got a Trillium cheque in the mail. That should cover the tab. (In case the government's wondering where the money's going.)

I message him first.

Hey dude. How's Tindering going?

He responds promptly.

Tindering is an entertainment extravaganza. How's your experience? A bunch of obscene comments from random guys? Lol. That's my friend's experience.

(I wish I could recreate the Tinder conversation bubbles in this blog, but I'm not that savvy with my computer. Or anything, for that matter. Just know that if I leave a space between a sentence formatted in bold italics, it means the other person is talking. I don't want to write, "I said" or "he said" after every sentence. I feel like you guys can figure out who's talking.)

Hahaha! Yup. Nothing makes me feel more special than dudes messaging me at 5:00 a.m. asking me if I'm still up.

It's absurd. Shameless we are. (I say we, but not me. Lol.)

Haha. This guy seems cool. It looks like he's in the hospital in one of this profile pictures, so I'm already worried about him. He's making an open mouth smile in the pic though, (my signature move) so I'm slightly less concerned. Nobody goes into open-heart surgery with a "Come on down! You're the next contestant on the Price is Right" face. Our message banter goes back and forth all night. We discuss our respective neighbourhoods, what we're watching on TV, and then I have to ask...

Have you gone on any Tinder Dates yet?

Only one.

Epic? You score? Lol.

It's funny with Tinder, cuz either you're looking for one thing or you aren't. Lol. I can be charming in real life. So ummmmm yah.

Haha! Yes! HONESTY! I love it! And now I must meet the dude who's scored on Tinder. Will I fall for his sweet moves too?

Since he's jobless, I decide I'm going to organize a cheap date, so he doesn't feel pressure to spend money on me. Believe it or not, there are cheap things to do in Toronto. I mean, until you get a ticket for drinking in the park.

There's an outdoor movie series at the Harbourfront Centre every summer. I love it. I saw Annie Hall there two summers ago. It's entertainment, it's on the water, and it's FREE! The only problem is, you can't choose the movie. Plus, I run the risk of looking like a dork by being so organizational with a date. Luckily, he thinks it's a cool idea. But of course, he asks what movie it is.

A movie from the mid 90's... That Thing You Do!

Yikes. Like any girl picking the movie, I'm scared he won't approve.

Hahaha! Tim Hanks.

(I'm gonna assume that was a typo.)

We're both pretty psyched for the date, but of course, summer in Toronto has been pretty unpredictable this year. The day of the date, he messages me.

Hey Christina, maybe scratch the movie cause its ungodly cold for the summer and turn this into coffee or a drink?

Sure:) Yonge and Eg somewhere?

That's his neighbourhood. I should go to this hood, so he doesn't have to waste a TTC token on me. He's an uptown boy (I facking LOVE Billy Joel), living in his uptown world. Which in Toronto, means you live close to a Toys "R" Us. He pipes back in, repeating the last question I never answered.

Coffee or drink?

You're asking the wrong person. I'm obviously going to say drink...

Ok, let's say Duke of Kent.

Perfect! That's what I was going to say! I explain I'm wearing a dorky blue dress, since I have to supervise at my bar job all day. (Yes, supervise. Can you believe somebody gave ME the keys to a bar?) He preps me for his red plaid shirt. If there's one pattern I'm noticing from Tindering in Toronto, it's that most guys go with plaid shirts for first dates.

We pretty much arrive at the same time, both five minutes early. That's gonna rob me of my Foursquare check-in time, but I'll deal. He order's a bottle of Stella. Ugh. Stella...? It's just an over-priced import. There's better beer from here in Ontario, and it's cheaper. I think some people have a strange attachment to beers in green bottles, the same way I'm into astrology. You might think I'm off base here, but I've been a bartender for a long time. I've met the green bottle beer drinkers. They'll drink Stella, Heineken, Becks, and not much else. They're very mysterious...

He knows I've been working all day.

"So, did you work at Yuk Yuk's today?"

"No, I worked at my bar job."

"Oh, I thought maybe there were shows during the day."

Nope. No stand up comedy matinees as far as I know. But if a comedy club wants to start doing them, I could use the extra paycheck. He tells me he loves comedy. He's already mentioned he's living the "Summer of George." GREAT reference. I obviously love it. Then, the inevitable happens. He wants me to tell him a joke.

"Ummm... no. I don't do jokes off stage."

"But you said you would tell me a joke when you met me."

"No I didn't!"

"Yes, you did."

"I absolutely did NOT. Comedians NEVER tell their jokes off stage. Go out into the universe, ask ten comics to tell you a joke, and then come back to me with the answer. I guarantee none of them will."

"I already know a comic who tells jokes off stage."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

"Nathan Macintosh."

FAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! Thanks a lot, Nathan.

"Well, I'm gonna have a little talk with Nathan. I'll get to the bottom of this."

Our conversation flows freely, with an overload of honesty. I tell him how I used to live in LA illegally, and eventually got deported. He tells me that him and his buddies once pretended to be LFO to pick up chicks. He's definitely cute, plus he's wearing glasses. I was going to wear my glasses tonight too, but I asked my guy friends at work,

"Glasses? Or no glasses?"

They both said,

"No glasses."

So I went with no glasses. But half way through the date, I confess I have glasses, and put them on. I'm obviously more comfortable with them on, and I don't have contact lenses, cuz I'm too scared to touch my eyeball. My date pipes up when I throw on my specs.

"I like the glasses."

Thanks a lot, Everett and Grant. That's the last time I take advice from you guys. My comfort level is growing on this date. I'm not sure that's necessarily a good thing, because obviously I burp. But I burp and blow it away from him, so I'm still pretty classy. I call myself out as being kind of gross girl. I don't even shower every day. Then he says,

"I like to shower twice a day."

Well, this isn't going to work out. I should probably leave right now. I'm NOT the right girl for you. Sometimes I shower twice a week. I don't want to lead you on. I don't even wash my towels enough for most of my showers to count. I've also probably lost any chance I had of receiving oral sex.

The bill comes. I try to pay it, but he insists on paying his half. It's kind of a relief. I shouldn't try to be a baller on my wage. I had to supervise at work today, so I didn't even make any tips. You might be surprised to know, most servers make more money than managers. Weird, eh? Here's a promotion! You get less money!

Still, it's nice not to wear a kilt one day a week. He's happy to pay his half anyway. Of course, much like my nacho orders I mentioned on my last date, I need to control the tip. I never leave less than 20 per cent. He asks me what 15 per cent of $58 dollars is. (My Trillium cheque really was perfect for this tab.) I explain I tip 20 per cent , and I tip on the amount after tax. (Is this why I'm broke?)

"Oh, I thought you tipped before tax," he says.

Well, you learn something new every day. (Guys, this really happened. I'm not just writing this on behalf of servers everywhere.)

We walk out of the bar. I told him earlier that I have to leave at 9:30pm, to meet my girlfriends at the strip club. (It's a long story. Not as pervy as you'd think.) We hug. I wonder if he's going to kiss me. We're not drunk, so there's still some awkwardness. I like to keep my self-confidence at a decent level though, so when he doesn't kiss me, I just assume he doesn't want to get my Ruby Woo Mac lipstick on his lips. Either that, or the Yonge Street lighting really exposes my moustache.

It was a fun date, but let's not kid ourselves....

I'm never going to shower twice a day.

I can't even guarantee once a day.

Keep calm, and Tinder on,