It was one of those weekends where there’s nothing much to do, so I, a 24-year-old guy, decided to check out Tinder. Seeing that there really weren’t that many guys close to my house to go on a date with, I downloaded Grindr for the first time. And yeah, I’m obviously gay. I heard horror stories of people who had awkward encounters, dudes whose pictures showed a super trimmed honcho when in reality; they were nothing but a pudgy bear with a lousy job. That doesn’t mean they weren’t attractive on their own, but if you’re going to lie on social media, don’t lie about your looks, especially when you know we’re going to meet, right? So I started swiping and checking out the menu when I stumbled upon this gorgeous hipster who was obviously quite attractive and definitely out of my league. We ended up texting and talking for hours until I decided I wanted to meet him to see if he was actually the same guy from the pics.
He tells me he’s into indie music and that there’s a concert 30 minutes away from where I live. The plan was for him to pick me up on his car, (major points for having his own car and his own pad) and all I had to do was put on a nice shirt, shower, and think about a nice café where we could go afterwards. The concert turned out to be better than I expected, despite being surrounded by class-A hipsters who seemed to trying to one up each other with the oddest combinations of man buns, trimmed bushy beards, and heavy mustaches that decorated their perfectly exfoliated faces. I was surrounded by plaid shirts, skinny jeans and fedoras. Most of them rode their bicycles to the event, and at least one of them had a monocycle. It was one of the oddest, most pretentious scenes, and yet, I had an amazing time. The problem was… I simply didn’t click with my date. I found him dull, carefully manicured, and extremely distant. But that changed when they started playing his favorite song.