I turned on the ‘non-personal’ one and waited for the notifications to load. There were text messages from women I’d long stopped talking to and my former therapist who I avoided at all costs. I muted all those threads and clicked on Tinder.
Opening the app, I clicked on the premium tab, wanting to see if the only woman I’d swiped right on several times had finally liked me back. She hadn’t. Instead, she’d flagged me for fucking fraud and tagged me to a comment where she was talking about me in the community forum.
Seriously? Can someone else flag this asshole, so we can prevent him from getting some other woman’s hopes up? He keeps swiping right on me, popping up on my feed and I know he’s not real.
I smiled and pulled up her pictures again. She was hands-down, the sexiest woman I’d ever seen. Dark brown curls framed her faintly freckled cheeks, her bow shaped lips were coated in a devilish shade of red in every photo, and her deep almond eyes were beyond alluring.
She was the only woman who I’d been this attracted to at first sight, the only woman who could arouse me within a matter of seconds from a mere picture.
Since she wanted to play games, I decided to return the favor. I clicked on the dots beside her name and flagged her account for fraud.
Within seconds, she swiped right on me and sent me a message.
GoodGirl1996: Look here, you fucking sock-puppet…I’m clearly not interested in you, and I know that’s hard to believe, but I prefer my men to be REAL, so do yourself a favor and find someone who’s willing to fall for your fake/stolen pics.
I smiled and wrote her back.
The Devil: What makes you think my pictures aren’t real?
GoodGirl1996: Because if you were, you wouldn’t need to use this app at all.
The Devil: In that case, I could say the same thing about you…
GoodGirl1996: So, you think flattering me is going to work? *eye roll emoji*
The Devil: If you’d like, I can come show you that I’m real right now.
GoodGirl1996: Oh, I’m sure. *double eye roll emoji* I have a date with a REAL guy later this afternoon at The Brunch 7. Feel free to stop by and show yourself to the both of us.
The Devil: I will. I’ll be there.
GoodGirl1996: You’ll be there as some trolling prepubescent teenager who has way too much time on his hands. The moment Tinder determines that your complaint is full of it, I’m willing to bet that everyone in the community will have your account banned for life.
The Devil: I wouldn’t waste my time on placing such a terrible bet with me if I were you. I’ve never lost at anything in my life…
She blocked me before I could say another word.
Meredith
Before
MissCherry718: Soooo, I haven’t seen this guy’s profile on the site here yet (must have the wrong qualifications checked), but DAYUUUMM! I’ll happily take one for all of womankind if he messages me. I’ll find out if he’s real or not for you. LOL
Escape9to5: Ugh. I don’t understand this girl’s complaint at all…Is she saying that hot guys are above using Tinder and “liking” her? Maybe she has some self-esteem issues. Can someone nominate her to be on Dr. Phil’s show or something?
Autumn42: I’m with you Escape9to5! Like, ‘Oh noooo…The horror of a sexy as fuck man swiping right on me several times!’ Maybe he’s really trying to get your attention? Maybe he’s THAT interested in you?
MissCherry718: I can’t determine if she’s trying to “humble brag” about how much this guy wants her, or if she’s really this delusional.
Escape 9to5: You guys, it’s neither. It’s just clear that she’s new to Tinder. That, and she needs to get fucked and get back in her right mind. Bahahaha!
* * *
I groaned as I read over the latest responses on my public post. Within a week, the entire community had turned against me, and I was on the verge of deleting the post, but the sting of the truth was holding me back.
“She needs to get fucked and get back in her right mind…”
I was hoping that tonight’s date with the latest guy I’d met on Tinder would have that exact ending. We’d been messaging for the past several days in a row—toeing the line between flirting and making it obvious that we both wanted to have sex. Granted, his dirty talk wasn’t the best I’d ever heard, but it was far from the worst.
“Once I finger bang your pussy, you’ll never want to be finger-banged by another man again…”
Opening my text messages, I opened the last one he’d sent.
Bennett (HG456): Can’t wait to see you tonight at The Brunch 7, sexy girl.
“Miss Thatchwood…” My boss cleared her throat, launching me back into reality where I was supposed to be working. “Has Ralph Lauren returned my messages about those grey suits? What about Jason Wu?”