Follow up on last week's Tinder date

First off, a question for you monkeys. Regarding the Woodford and creatine combo I use to signal the end of co***ne hours and the beginning of premarket: I started preparing it in the bottles to save time but I'm having a clumping problem. Anyone else deal with same? I AM a fucking champ and a Wall Street genius, and I'm crushing it, but I'm not a god damn scientist, so if you've got suggestions, hold forth, motherfuckers.

Anyway, I thought about Applebees, or Olive Garden, or Shake Shack for my Tinder date, and I especially considered @Stringer Bell" 's suggestion of Union Square TGI Fridays, because it's "centrally located" and pragmatism gets girls moist. But ultimately I ignored all of that and took this chick to B Dubs. Why? Wings. Beer. Sports. The aggressively high number of television screens that ensured I would not have to listen too closely to anything she said.

I don't want to make this too long of a story so I'm gonna skip to the part where Lincoln drives us home (Lincoln is the name of the guy the bank pays to drive the Lincoln). We get into the penthouse and the clothes are coming off. This is way easier than I thought it would be but I feel like I'm missing something important. Not my Rolex or anything like that, but as any burgeoning alcoholic can relate to, I definitely feel like I've forgotten about something and there will be consequences.

Now, for music. When I'm boning a girl I know, it's Rammstein all the way, but since this is just a one-off, and I want to be respectful and shit, I go for the Al Green. It works immediately and she's going down like the Dow after Brexit. I'm sitting back in the Eames, like I do, blissed out and dreaming up earnings plays while this girl goes to town, when all of a sudden, MY DICK IS ON FIRE.

Not literally, dumbass, but it's burning hot, like, oh, I dunno, how about BUFFALO WILD WINGS BLAZIN' SAUCE.

Turns out, I was so focused on the Mets game that I didn't notice this boring Midwesterner was straight up eating the hottest wings on offer like they were fucking Swedish Fish, wiping her face and hands with a wet napkin the size of a Post-It, leaving thousands of Scoville units worth of pure heat all over her mouth.

I pull her face out of my crotch, stop, drop and roll out of the chair to try and put out the fire with my hands, spending the next fifteen minutes in the fetal position on my living room floor, cupping my junk, without so much as looking at her again while she gets me an ice pack, calls an Uber and leaves to wait for it outside, saying "sorry" about 80 times, but "sorry" won't bring back the feeling in my balls.

Then I get a text the next morning saying "back in KC. had a really nice time. text u when Im in NYC again." No, no you won't.

So please, make me feel better. Regale me with your worst Tinder date stories (any stories are good, but especially with out-of-towners). Don't restrain yourselves. I need this.

Mod Note (Andy): Best of 2016, this post ranks #31 for the past year

 

I, unfortunately, have never used tinder since I've been in a relationship for 3+ years now so I don't have a crazy story for you but that 6th paragraph may be the best thing I've ever read. +1

Array
 

One time I went home with someone and we tried to sleep together. He then stopped and said, "this isn't going to work, I haven't been with someone in forever, I feel more comfortable taking care of myself, in my own hands.". So he got out his lotion, got out tissues and took care of himself as I watched. He never gave me any attention either.

I left the apartment and like three days later told him it wasn't going to work and that he was a nice guy, blah blah blah but that I wasn't the girl for him. I immediately booked myself on another date. With that guy, we were due to meet in Union Square. I am waiting there for him when guy 1 shows up. I guess he followed me. He grabbed me a bit violently and asked for an explanation as to why I wasn't going to date him anymore. I told him he needed to let me go and I walked away feeling very freaked out. I then met up with guy #2.

Guy #2 and I go to dinner and then walk around the neighborhood. Who do we walk by? Hours later? Guy #1, crying on the phone in the park.

That was a pretty bad experience.

********"Babies don't cost money, they MAKE money." - Jerri Blank********
 

It's real. I was 20 or so at the time....I think he was maybe 25. I'm day old birthday cake now (31) so these things don't really happen to me anymore...

********"Babies don't cost money, they MAKE money." - Jerri Blank********
 

I had a pretty epic Tinder fail in college. The sex was good on the first hook-up and this chick was decently hot so we grabbed drinks a couple nights later. Four hours and enough drinks later we we are back at the crib for the desperate drunk sex that Tinder was made for. The next morning the chick leaves and I feel relieved that the night went according to plan...

Ten minutes later the girl comes running back into the house bawling like Jay Cutler after an interception. Turns out her car was hit by a drunk driver the night before. This asshole sideswiped 4 cars before head-on colliding into this chicks car. Her car was completely totaled and to make matters worse she just moved to town a few weeks prior.

Since I am such a noble gentleman, I was stuck spending the next four hours on an early hungover Saturday morning driving her to the police station, helping her get situated with her auto insurance company, and finally give her a ride back to her apartment. At least with no transportation for a few weeks, I didn't have to worry about awkwardly running into her.

 

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