You know when something sounds too good to be true? That’s because it is. Nothing is for free, EVER. My husband and I have been pushing his sexual boundaries, because as previously discussed (see my essay on threesomes insert link) I found out I don’t like to push mine–in fact, I am quite the jealous psycho. My husband, on the other hand, loves being jealous, no judgment but I think porn melted parts of his brain from a very early age. He likes it that men peruse me, so one drunk one night we (I) have the amazing idea to sign up for Tinder. It started out as lets just take a look at the guys who want me since I love being adored. The idea was to make flirty conversation, maybe even a little dirty talk, but nothing more. I mean who the hell is on Tinder anymore anyways, well hopefully no one we know. I mean I actually find it surprising I didn’t see someone I knew, swiping left every 15 profiles, and then a few rights, because why not, I’ll just unmatch them later if they’re annoying. I basically started going so fast based on looks, because it’s not like I am going to marry the dude, just looking for a hot piece of ass to flirt with and look at, and it said so on my profile.  I felt pretty good about telling a half truth. Obviously leaving the part out about me being married on my profile, but I would eventually tell them once we started chatting. I get bored while my man is out of town, and take a gander at my matches. Feeling like I matched with some pretty good options, I talk to my husband and we come up with an arrangement. He set some ground rules: I was allowed to meet up with someone of my choosing and to make out with said match. This may seem pretty PG, but after my reaction to seeing him with other women in our attempted threesome, we decided to take it slow. It sounded like a win for me! I mean I get to be married to the love of my life, and have these hot pieces of ass give me all kinds of attention. I couldn’t wait to start Living the dream! 

I have the unique opportunity to be married to the most faithful, smart, wonderful man, that treats me like a fucking princess. Literally waits on me hand and foot, and the sex, FUCK THE SEX IS GOOD! The best I have ever had. He is done hoping I’m ever bringing another woman into our bedroom again, so I guess we are now trying this kink on for size. It’s worth repeating that when something sounds too good to be true, it usually is. I forgot what it’s like out there in the dating world: yes it’s entertaining for a millisecond, but it got dark fast. Did I mention I fucking hated dating when I had to do it, I basically ran away from it like it was the plague, which nowadays you probably will contract from some dude that said the condom broke (Monkeypox anyone?), but don’t worry a quick dose of penicillin clears that right up (the plague not Monkeypox). Dating is horrific, it’s literally why people get married and let themselves go together. I mean I haven’t gotten a mani/pedi in months, most of the time I wander about the house in my not cute pajamas  with my hair in a messy bun, but I am happy! Married and sloppy is happy, dating is sad, and not vetting your Tinder date is downright stupid. So I guess I deserved what was coming next. 

I get on Tinder, find a guy, he gets a bottle of tequila and brings it over to my place, and he is 100% not like his photos. I have a friend here and lots of pepper spray plus building security so I feel pretty safe. As soon as he walks into the house, the first thing I notice there is a dad bod, where abs should have been.  I should have kicked him out right then and there but I wanted to be polite. Ladies, let this be a lesson to you in over filtering photos: no one wants to see a drastically different person IRL. I invite him in and pour us some drinks, thinking I can at least have an interesting conversation with him, he did go to Harvard Business School after all. But just like the missing abs I was so looking forward to seeing, he seemed to have an empty space where I was assumed a brain was. When I ask about his career and what he is doing with his HARVARD BUSINESS SCHOOL EDUCATION, he announces that right now he’s between jobs and proceeds to ask me to Zelle him for the tequila. Whatever I’ll Zelle you dude, I’m keeping that bottle and going to start drinking it straight on the rocks. If I gave two shits about actually dating, I would have Zelled him for the bottle and kicked him out of my house. He does start to notice quite a bit of photos with me and my husband, and I tell him, hey I am just going to be honest, I am married and my husband is OK with this. He seemed pretty OK with it himself, the discussion ended there. I made it clear that I didn’t feel a vibe and he could stay for a few drinks since he made the effort to come across town to where I live. Ok back to his business aspirations, he pitches us some yacht app, it sounds exactly like the one I already use, so I asked him what made his different, 0 answer, just a very puzzled look on his face, this cannot be good. I inquire about his Harvard education, because if you’re going to go out of your way to flex it, you better be the real deal, or at least make it believable for fucks sake. Finally he admits he took some online classes, probably for free, during the pandemic. I am pretty sure he got a certificate for completing an excel class, which he should be proud of, but that was quite an upsell he was pitching. That’s like saying I came first in the Boston Marathon, when my greatest cardio accomplishment was a 5k for charity. Not only that, he was old school Serbian, a refugee, which I have no problem with but again having to move a lot, and having houses all over the world is quite different. Here comes the kicker, he was wearing a wedding ring on his necklace, and for sure had a wife at home, which he later admitted. She had no idea what he was up to. I mean why should she, according to him, she’s just a woman and she's to do what her husband tells her to and it’s none of her business what he does with his time. If that works for them, fine, but buddy this isn’t going anywhere for a multitude of reasons: one, your wife is in the dark, and I don’t get down like that. And two, I have no problem with other cultures, but don’t force yours down my throat, that’s two things I do not want in my mouth tonight–your misogynistic views on women, and you. I am pretty sure I am fucked up beyond belief because he was so fucking ridiculous, he was starting to become slightly entertaining. Mostly because I liked to argue about everything he said, prove him wrong, force him to play board games, all of which I win, and rub it in his face that men are far less superior than women. He hated it, but since the first time he walked into my house, I was having fun. He was however a surprisingly good sport about doing our cocky dares like lip singing to Britney Spears in a pink feather boa, or rapping freestyle about his favorite snack. Ok we tortured the guy enough, lets just talk about normal things, basically anything that’s a current even in the world. I would have settled for comments on the Johnny Depp vs. Amber Heard trial or WOW, did you know that there is an Alfreds in the Valley, most people don’t, I mean anything! Well not anything, he started getting pretty anti-Semitic, and that ended it the quickly, making it super awkward since me and my friend were both Jewish too. He had two good qualities: he went with the flow, and was very good at languages, but you better know how to talk when you're that full of shit.

Here is when this horrible date turned into my worst nightmare, and brought out my worst version of myself. Before he came over, I was so nervous to meet someone, to “date” again, and have some type of connection, that I cleaned my house spotlessly and when doing so, I threw out all my prescription medication. Ok I can get normal stuff refilled in a second, but I threw away 2 full bottles of Adderall! What the fuck. So now It’s 4am, and I am freaking out because I am going on an intense trip to Europe in 24 hours and I’d be going without my happy pills. Also I had a ton of stuff to get done before I left.  I go into panic mode. What do we do? What can we do? My friend has this amazing idea that we will just go down to the trash shoot (in an insanely large building, by the way,) and we will get lucky and find it! We march our drunk asses down to the night doorman, he tells us that the trash all goes into another building. Without permission we walk right into it and start pulling out trash! This is an extremely dangerous thing to do and we probably could have died. It was also insanely gross, and I do not recommend this to my worst enemy, if I had one. We pray it’s easy to find, but our prayers are in vain, because all we found was some dirty diapers, half a gallon of orange juice, my weed gummies, and a travel toothbrush that was supposed to accompany me to Paris. We found all those things, except the only thing we needed, the fucking Adderall. 

All I can think of is that dating is a constant dumpster dive–it literally had me hit my bottom. At least I was honest on my profile, not looking for anything serious, trying something new, no photoshopped photos that didn’t look like me, no lying. I had NO IDEA this is how bad it’s gotten out there, and you might be saying it’s Tinder, but guess what? The same people who are on Tinder are on all the other ones too, Bumble, Hinge, Raya, Luxy, The League and whatever ones come next. 

My poor single friend, who coincidentally was ready to start dating again, just had to witness what was out there waiting for her. It was all the gut wrenching nightmares she suspected, coming to life right before her eyes. She stayed off Tinder thinking it was all about the hook ups, but little did she know, the same guys who she was actively talking to were spinning a whole different game on Tinder. When on Bumble he says looking for something serious, trying to settle down, but the same guy on Tinder is looking to hook up and begging to come over for that late night booty call.  Look,  if you want to use all the platforms, use them, just be consistent in what you’re looking for. It’s getting more confusing by the day, like I said, emotional dumpster diving. I am pretty sure this encounter made my friend extra wary of what the real intentions on these apps are. Her suspicions felt confirmed when a few weeks later she found someone she liked, who actively pursued her, set up a date, texted her nonstop for days, and ghosted her the day of.  It’s been days and still no word. Dude a simple brush off via text would have sufficed, don’t be a dick and make a girl get ready and be waiting by the phone, with no calls or texts, not even a lame ass excuse, before ever even meeting. Ladies, please vet your internet dates, like you’re hiring a personal assistant: a simple background check will do, nothing too deep, just if they have violent crimes against them, or are married, to name a few red flags. There are apps for that now too! A lot of my friends use Spokeo, but a quick google search will find you many more. 

Now that I think about it, I am pretty sure my husband did this to me on purpose. What a fucking asshole. I should make him date girls, but give him stupid rules. Like you take them somewhere where you can really get to know each other, they have to misspell or use at least 5 words wrong in their bio, no touching, must have at least a 2 hour conversation with them. And see how he likes it! Dating is pretty tough, even for a married woman looking for a hot piece of ass. These apps are literally the dumpster I was crawling through looking for the Adderall I will never find. 

You know when something sounds too good to be true? That’s because it is. Nothing is for free, EVER. My husband and I have been pushing his sexual boundaries, because as previously discussed (see my essay on threesomes insert link) I found out I don’t like to push mine–in fact, I am quite the jealous psycho. My husband, on the other hand, loves being jealous, no judgment but I think porn melted parts of his brain from a very early age. He likes it that men peruse me, so one drunk one night we (I) have the amazing idea to sign up for Tinder. It started out as lets just take a look at the guys who want me since I love being adored. The idea was to make flirty conversation, maybe even a little dirty talk, but nothing more. I mean who the hell is on Tinder anymore anyways, well hopefully no one we know. I mean I actually find it surprising I didn’t see someone I knew, swiping left every 15 profiles, and then a few rights, because why not, I’ll just unmatch them later if they’re annoying. I basically started going so fast based on looks, because it’s not like I am going to marry the dude, just looking for a hot piece of ass to flirt with and look at, and it said so on my profile.  I felt pretty good about telling a half truth. Obviously leaving the part out about me being married on my profile, but I would eventually tell them once we started chatting. I get bored while my man is out of town, and take a gander at my matches. Feeling like I matched with some pretty good options, I talk to my husband and we come up with an arrangement. He set some ground rules: I was allowed to meet up with someone of my choosing and to make out with said match. This may seem pretty PG, but after my reaction to seeing him with other women in our attempted threesome, we decided to take it slow. It sounded like a win for me! I mean I get to be married to the love of my life, and have these hot pieces of ass give me all kinds of attention. I couldn’t wait to start Living the dream! 

I have the unique opportunity to be married to the most faithful, smart, wonderful man, that treats me like a fucking princess. Literally waits on me hand and foot, and the sex, FUCK THE SEX IS GOOD! The best I have ever had. He is done hoping I’m ever bringing another woman into our bedroom again, so I guess we are now trying this kink on for size. It’s worth repeating that when something sounds too good to be true, it usually is. I forgot what it’s like out there in the dating world: yes it’s entertaining for a millisecond, but it got dark fast. Did I mention I fucking hated dating when I had to do it, I basically ran away from it like it was the plague, which nowadays you probably will contract from some dude that said the condom broke (Monkeypox anyone?), but don’t worry a quick dose of penicillin clears that right up (the plague not Monkeypox). Dating is horrific, it’s literally why people get married and let themselves go together. I mean I haven’t gotten a mani/pedi in months, most of the time I wander about the house in my not cute pajamas  with my hair in a messy bun, but I am happy! Married and sloppy is happy, dating is sad, and not vetting your Tinder date is downright stupid. So I guess I deserved what was coming next. 

I get on Tinder, find a guy, he gets a bottle of tequila and brings it over to my place, and he is 100% not like his photos. I have a friend here and lots of pepper spray plus building security so I feel pretty safe. As soon as he walks into the house, the first thing I notice there is a dad bod, where abs should have been.  I should have kicked him out right then and there but I wanted to be polite. Ladies, let this be a lesson to you in over filtering photos: no one wants to see a drastically different person IRL. I invite him in and pour us some drinks, thinking I can at least have an interesting conversation with him, he did go to Harvard Business School after all. But just like the missing abs I was so looking forward to seeing, he seemed to have an empty space where I was assumed a brain was. When I ask about his career and what he is doing with his HARVARD BUSINESS SCHOOL EDUCATION, he announces that right now he’s between jobs and proceeds to ask me to Zelle him for the tequila. Whatever I’ll Zelle you dude, I’m keeping that bottle and going to start drinking it straight on the rocks. If I gave two shits about actually dating, I would have Zelled him for the bottle and kicked him out of my house. He does start to notice quite a bit of photos with me and my husband, and I tell him, hey I am just going to be honest, I am married and my husband is OK with this. He seemed pretty OK with it himself, the discussion ended there. I made it clear that I didn’t feel a vibe and he could stay for a few drinks since he made the effort to come across town to where I live. Ok back to his business aspirations, he pitches us some yacht app, it sounds exactly like the one I already use, so I asked him what made his different, 0 answer, just a very puzzled look on his face, this cannot be good. I inquire about his Harvard education, because if you’re going to go out of your way to flex it, you better be the real deal, or at least make it believable for fucks sake. Finally he admits he took some online classes, probably for free, during the pandemic. I am pretty sure he got a certificate for completing an excel class, which he should be proud of, but that was quite an upsell he was pitching. That’s like saying I came first in the Boston Marathon, when my greatest cardio accomplishment was a 5k for charity. Not only that, he was old school Serbian, a refugee, which I have no problem with but again having to move a lot, and having houses all over the world is quite different. Here comes the kicker, he was wearing a wedding ring on his necklace, and for sure had a wife at home, which he later admitted. She had no idea what he was up to. I mean why should she, according to him, she’s just a woman and she's to do what her husband tells her to and it’s none of her business what he does with his time. If that works for them, fine, but buddy this isn’t going anywhere for a multitude of reasons: one, your wife is in the dark, and I don’t get down like that. And two, I have no problem with other cultures, but don’t force yours down my throat, that’s two things I do not want in my mouth tonight–your misogynistic views on women, and you. I am pretty sure I am fucked up beyond belief because he was so fucking ridiculous, he was starting to become slightly entertaining. Mostly because I liked to argue about everything he said, prove him wrong, force him to play board games, all of which I win, and rub it in his face that men are far less superior than women. He hated it, but since the first time he walked into my house, I was having fun. He was however a surprisingly good sport about doing our cocky dares like lip singing to Britney Spears in a pink feather boa, or rapping freestyle about his favorite snack. Ok we tortured the guy enough, lets just talk about normal things, basically anything that’s a current even in the world. I would have settled for comments on the Johnny Depp vs. Amber Heard trial or WOW, did you know that there is an Alfreds in the Valley, most people don’t, I mean anything! Well not anything, he started getting pretty anti-Semitic, and that ended it the quickly, making it super awkward since me and my friend were both Jewish too. He had two good qualities: he went with the flow, and was very good at languages, but you better know how to talk when you're that full of shit.

Here is when this horrible date turned into my worst nightmare, and brought out my worst version of myself. Before he came over, I was so nervous to meet someone, to “date” again, and have some type of connection, that I cleaned my house spotlessly and when doing so, I threw out all my prescription medication. Ok I can get normal stuff refilled in a second, but I threw away 2 full bottles of Adderall! What the fuck. So now It’s 4am, and I am freaking out because I am going on an intense trip to Europe in 24 hours and I’d be going without my happy pills. Also I had a ton of stuff to get done before I left.  I go into panic mode. What do we do? What can we do? My friend has this amazing idea that we will just go down to the trash shoot (in an insanely large building, by the way,) and we will get lucky and find it! We march our drunk asses down to the night doorman, he tells us that the trash all goes into another building. Without permission we walk right into it and start pulling out trash! This is an extremely dangerous thing to do and we probably could have died. It was also insanely gross, and I do not recommend this to my worst enemy, if I had one. We pray it’s easy to find, but our prayers are in vain, because all we found was some dirty diapers, half a gallon of orange juice, my weed gummies, and a travel toothbrush that was supposed to accompany me to Paris. We found all those things, except the only thing we needed, the fucking Adderall. 

All I can think of is that dating is a constant dumpster dive–it literally had me hit my bottom. At least I was honest on my profile, not looking for anything serious, trying something new, no photoshopped photos that didn’t look like me, no lying. I had NO IDEA this is how bad it’s gotten out there, and you might be saying it’s Tinder, but guess what? The same people who are on Tinder are on all the other ones too, Bumble, Hinge, Raya, Luxy, The League and whatever ones come next. 

My poor single friend, who coincidentally was ready to start dating again, just had to witness what was out there waiting for her. It was all the gut wrenching nightmares she suspected, coming to life right before her eyes. She stayed off Tinder thinking it was all about the hook ups, but little did she know, the same guys who she was actively talking to were spinning a whole different game on Tinder. When on Bumble he says looking for something serious, trying to settle down, but the same guy on Tinder is looking to hook up and begging to come over for that late night booty call.  Look,  if you want to use all the platforms, use them, just be consistent in what you’re looking for. It’s getting more confusing by the day, like I said, emotional dumpster diving. I am pretty sure this encounter made my friend extra wary of what the real intentions on these apps are. Her suspicions felt confirmed when a few weeks later she found someone she liked, who actively pursued her, set up a date, texted her nonstop for days, and ghosted her the day of.  It’s been days and still no word. Dude a simple brush off via text would have sufficed, don’t be a dick and make a girl get ready and be waiting by the phone, with no calls or texts, not even a lame ass excuse, before ever even meeting. Ladies, please vet your internet dates, like you’re hiring a personal assistant: a simple background check will do, nothing too deep, just if they have violent crimes against them, or are married, to name a few red flags. There are apps for that now too! A lot of my friends use Spokeo, but a quick google search will find you many more. 

Now that I think about it, I am pretty sure my husband did this to me on purpose. What a fucking asshole. I should make him date girls, but give him stupid rules. Like you take them somewhere where you can really get to know each other, they have to misspell or use at least 5 words wrong in their bio, no touching, must have at least a 2 hour conversation with them. And see how he likes it! Dating is pretty tough, even for a married woman looking for a hot piece of ass. These apps are literally the dumpster I was crawling through looking for the Adderall I will never find.