After the whole backseat fiasco, I was finally getting back to normal and settling into my routine.

Once I got on Bumble, my life started racing in a direction I wasn’t prepared for.

Embarrassment.

Agony.

Regret.

Dating a bunch of worthless guys was not fun. And after thinking something serious could come from the preacher, I was in a state of confusion.

So, I deleted the app.

I needed some time to reassess my expectations. Do I want to date to be a girlfriend or do I want to date casually?

A few weeks into my boring life of waking up, going to work, coming home, making an awful meal, then going to sleep made me realize I was ready to get back in these streets.

This time, not having any expectations of anyone. Even if they were impressive.

*spoiler: they’re never that impressive.*

Swipe left.

Swipe right.

Match.

A 35 year old from New York with a pretty smile.

We chatted a bit before exchanging numbers.

Here we go… again.

I was sick of dating and meeting new guys.

Sick of the same script of ranch or blue cheese.

Who gives a fuck about ranch or blue cheese?

I was tired of the mundane conversations.

And there I was crying on a Friday night; because I simply couldn’t believe that after a break-up, a failed situationship, and countless dates, I was back at the drawing board.

I reached another breaking point.

I started playing Ari Lennox - I Been and one part struck a nerve.

“And I tried, and I tried, and I tried, and I tried, I tried. But, I’m having the worst luck on Tinder. Ooo, why’d you have to be a big pretender?”

Over and over again.

I played that song for hours.

Something told me to start writing about how I even got to this place. About my ex, how we lived together, how I was devastated when…

My phone rang.

It was the guy from Bumble.

Him: Hey Jasmine. How are you this evening?

*rolls eyes*

But as the conversation continued, he seemed engaging and covered the basics: educated, owned a home, taller than 4’11, occupation was not a preacher.

He had that slightly annoying New York accent, but he seemed cool nonetheless.

We conversed for almost two hours and as the conversation ended, I smiled and got back to writing.

A week went by and he planned a date for us at Little Trouble.

The weather finally warmed up and I was excited to step out and go to one of my favorite date spots.

I put the opp out in GroupMe to let my friends know where I was going and who I was going with, in case the date went left.

I drove to Little Trouble and he was about 10 minutes late.

No biggie.

I walked to the front of the parking garage as he walked up and greeted me.

He was taller than me with heels on and he had a gorgeous smile. We walked to the bar where we snagged two seats.

He smiled at me and said, “I’m so glad you look like your pictures.”

Shit, me too.

We started to vibe when our bartender surprised us with two sake shots.

Bartender: “These are from your friends B and Rih. Enjoy!”

I burst into a laughing fit and immediately looked around for my friends. He laughed too and insisted that we invite them over so he could return the favor.

B and Rih came over, he bought us a round, and the four of us took a shot together.

We all had a good laugh and they headed back to their table; while he and I finished the rest of our date.

Forty-five minutes goes by and he suddenly lets me know he had to go, but would love to see me again.

As we’re walking out of the restaurant I got curious and asked, “So you’re about to go on another date, huh?”

Him: See, it’s not even like that. I had this movie planned before I met you.
Me: Nah, it’s cool. Call me when you leave the movies. I’ll be up.

He laughed and we said our goodbyes.

I went back to find my friends, had another drink, and gave them the entire rundown of the date.

As I got home and started to unwind, I realized I actually had a decent time and he seemed honest.

At least.

About 30 minutes later, he called and we talked about our families, our childhoods, and our mutual interest in one another for the rest of the night.