Last spring I matched with “Boat Man” on Hinge. He was your typical frat boy type – his profile pictures included several photos partying on a boat, lots of booze, pictures surrounded blondes, and of course a shirtless photo on the beach wearing an American Flag bathing suit. After dating someone more Vanilla than my favorite McDonald’s milkshake for many years, I hate to admit it, but have a weakness for this douchebag alpha-male type. I believe one of his opening lines was that since we are both “more attractive than most Jews” we should probably get together. Red flag one – but guess what, he thought I was attractive, and would win a point with my mom for being Jewish!
For our first date, he invited me to spend the day on his boat with a bunch of is friends. I accepted, because...SCORE, A BOAT! I made some excuse and told him I was unable to attend. Luckily (or not so luckily) Boat Man “gave me another chance” and invited me to a bar to watch a Warriors playoff game. Little did I know, that this was not actually a date, and his 10 best bros and babes were in attendance as well. Boat Man was even more attractive in person than in his profile. Tall, dark and handsome with the most perfect white smile. It was a weeknight so I tried to drink responsibly. The bar we went to did not serve dinner, and my empty stomach threw off my responsible drinking, and I ended up at his apartment. In the first 5 minutes of hooking up, he proceeds to tell me that I have the smallest nipples he has ever seen. I have always liked nipple to jug ratio, and now you decide to make me self-conscious about them for the…rest of my life? Cool, thanks Boat Man.
We text back and forth that week, and I invite him to come over and watch the new season of Orange is the New Black at my apartment. He came over that evening, and we "Netflix and Chilled.” It was a lovely evening of boning. We talked about hanging out again, but I never heard from him again.
I wish that were where the story ends.
Last Saturday night, a friend and I went out in the "fratty" part of town. I am standing by the bar, having a great time, when I see Boat Man out of the corner of my eye. (By this point he has become a distant memory, except for the fact that when I get drunk I tell everyone about the small nipples I didn’t know that I had, until recently). He keeps looking over and smiling. I avoid eye contact. He comes up and says something to me. I ask him to repeat himself. Rather, he introduces himself as if he’s never met me. It dawns on me - this dude doesn’t remember me, even though we had sex twice! Fuck this clown – me and my small nipples say goodbye and leave for another bar.
Sunday afternoon rolls around, and he texts me, apologizing about the fact that he re-introduced himself to me. He asks I want to have a “Sunday Funday” and I respectfully decline. Against all my better judgment, I add the phrase “rain check?” to the end.
On Wednesday night he asks if I want to meet for drinks. I tell him that I have concert tickets, and it turns out that my friend and I have an extra ticket that would otherwise go to waste. He arrives at the show, charms my friend, and buys us both drinks. Just when I think maybe Boat Man isn’t that bad, he lets me know that he is going to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes pass by, and my friend looks at me and says, “He’s not coming back.” I want to believe that there is just a very long line. The show ends, and I wait a few more minutes before calling an Uber. I kept thinking – this is the kid of shit you see on Dateline. “Man leaves concert and is never found again” type of shit. But, I knew he was fine – he just simply ditched my small nips mid-concert.
The next day I send him a 3-paragraph message telling him that he is a terrible person. He texts me that morning and says: "I'm sorry - I had a family emergency come up and needed to leave immediately... I thought I texted you but it was in the body of the message without sending (doh). Thanks so much for last night, I had a blast. Let me know if you want me to Venmo you for the ticket”.
You had a family emergency at the exact same time as you went to pee and it was so important that you couldn’t stop and say goodbye? I let him know the price of the ticket. No text response, but later that day I get a notification about a new Venmo deposit in my account. Small nipples for the win.
For our first date, he invited me to spend the day on his boat with a bunch of is friends. I accepted, because...SCORE, A BOAT! I made some excuse and told him I was unable to attend. Luckily (or not so luckily) Boat Man “gave me another chance” and invited me to a bar to watch a Warriors playoff game. Little did I know, that this was not actually a date, and his 10 best bros and babes were in attendance as well. Boat Man was even more attractive in person than in his profile. Tall, dark and handsome with the most perfect white smile. It was a weeknight so I tried to drink responsibly. The bar we went to did not serve dinner, and my empty stomach threw off my responsible drinking, and I ended up at his apartment. In the first 5 minutes of hooking up, he proceeds to tell me that I have the smallest nipples he has ever seen. I have always liked nipple to jug ratio, and now you decide to make me self-conscious about them for the…rest of my life? Cool, thanks Boat Man.
We text back and forth that week, and I invite him to come over and watch the new season of Orange is the New Black at my apartment. He came over that evening, and we "Netflix and Chilled.” It was a lovely evening of boning. We talked about hanging out again, but I never heard from him again.
I wish that were where the story ends.
Last Saturday night, a friend and I went out in the "fratty" part of town. I am standing by the bar, having a great time, when I see Boat Man out of the corner of my eye. (By this point he has become a distant memory, except for the fact that when I get drunk I tell everyone about the small nipples I didn’t know that I had, until recently). He keeps looking over and smiling. I avoid eye contact. He comes up and says something to me. I ask him to repeat himself. Rather, he introduces himself as if he’s never met me. It dawns on me - this dude doesn’t remember me, even though we had sex twice! Fuck this clown – me and my small nipples say goodbye and leave for another bar.
Sunday afternoon rolls around, and he texts me, apologizing about the fact that he re-introduced himself to me. He asks I want to have a “Sunday Funday” and I respectfully decline. Against all my better judgment, I add the phrase “rain check?” to the end.
On Wednesday night he asks if I want to meet for drinks. I tell him that I have concert tickets, and it turns out that my friend and I have an extra ticket that would otherwise go to waste. He arrives at the show, charms my friend, and buys us both drinks. Just when I think maybe Boat Man isn’t that bad, he lets me know that he is going to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes pass by, and my friend looks at me and says, “He’s not coming back.” I want to believe that there is just a very long line. The show ends, and I wait a few more minutes before calling an Uber. I kept thinking – this is the kid of shit you see on Dateline. “Man leaves concert and is never found again” type of shit. But, I knew he was fine – he just simply ditched my small nips mid-concert.
The next day I send him a 3-paragraph message telling him that he is a terrible person. He texts me that morning and says: "I'm sorry - I had a family emergency come up and needed to leave immediately... I thought I texted you but it was in the body of the message without sending (doh). Thanks so much for last night, I had a blast. Let me know if you want me to Venmo you for the ticket”.
You had a family emergency at the exact same time as you went to pee and it was so important that you couldn’t stop and say goodbye? I let him know the price of the ticket. No text response, but later that day I get a notification about a new Venmo deposit in my account. Small nipples for the win.