Been a Day
Profile: Tinder. He’s a clinical research coordinator – whatever the hell that is – who on his profile claims to be super friendly and easy going. This should be a breeze, right? He wants to find someone who he can talk for hours on end with, grab a late night bite, be spontaneous with, live, love, laugh. Very specific, isn’t it? Makes him stand out, because no one else wants those things.
Just kidding. Every profile says the same god damned thing. Basically, you are writing your profile as if you were reciting the very definition of a relationship. Seems like a down-to-earth, honest guy, huh? Meanwhile, his profile picture displays his ripped, shirtless body; he’s staring, smiling down at his belly button(?). I assume he’s amused he has one. Sometimes I get lost in my belly button too.
ME: Hey there. How’s it going?
HIM: Alright. Been a day. You?
ME: Yeah me too. Worked all day but grabbed a beer.
HIM: Work on Sunday? Been napping. Now trying to be productive.
Yeah, work on Sunday is a thing. Unlike some freeloaders, we can’t all afford to take a resting day…*cough* God *cough*.
ME: Haha napping? What a rough day.
I’m being a tease…kinda…he said it’s ‘been a day’. That usually means you’ve been, I dunno, working!
HIM: I got in at 3 am from San Diego and then had to be up for beach volleyball for the morning.
Beach volleyball?! You ‘had to’? Hell no. Even if I had gotten a 12-hour sleep, I still wouldn’t wake up for beach volleyball. Gnarly, brah. That still doesn’t count for ‘been a day.’ Working all day and then being stuck in traffic for 2 hours is ‘been a day’. Late to something you needed to be at and then spilled coffee on your clothes and the rest of the day followed suit is ‘been a day’.
ME: Oy that’s early. I’m cooking dinner.
AKA I don’t care.
HIM: I had oatmeal, berries, and Greek yogurt for dinner.
Didn’t ask, but also…huh? Are you a deer? Did Bambi get ahold of your phone? I’m sure the Whole Foods universe would praise your existence but can I make you a sandwich?
ME: Sounds uber healthy. Like bird food. How are you still not hungry?
Just to be clear…I’m lying. That doesn’t sound healthy. Those foods might separately be healthy, but together as a complete meal? No, that’s not healthy. When your stomach is a liter in volume, seeds and berries a human satisfied does not make.
HIM: Oatmeal plus peanut butter and Greek yogurt with peanut butter is pretty heavy. I ate Greek yogurt before bed to last me through the night.
Wow thanks for the nutrition lesson, granola master. That’s what I think about too when making food: what will last me through the night? I’m starting to think all you can afford is nuts, berries, and bacterially fermented milk…from Greece. Wanna know what else is heavy? A cheeseburger with peanut butter, a steak with peanut butter, roasted chicken with peanut butter, and ma dick with peanut butter. All of that lasts through the night, hunty.
ME: Congratulations. I’d be like ‘where’s the beef?’
Nice one, me. *Self high five*
HIM: I’ve just gotten used to eating small meals.
ME: Well you definitely have the body to prove it.
This is a legit compliment from one vain gay man to another. He just takes it to a new extreme.
HIM: That I’m skinny?
ME: That you’re fit.
HIM: Oh ok.
Whew that was a close one. He almost accepted my compliment.
Analysis: Just be fuckin’ honest with your level of down-to-earth-ness. Like instead of saying you’re "chill" and "real", just save everyone time and give the disclaimer ‘Heads up, I’m a Shmuck. I'm interested in those who only eat food that doesn't cast a shadow. This will not be chill or fun.’ Otherwise every response sounds defensive and judgy. I’m happy that oatmeal and berries are the secret ingredient for a rock-hard body but why does that sound awful? Because starvation is a bitch. There’s something to be said about superficiality. You might think you’re “living your best life” – don’t get me started – but all this bullshit about spending your days hiking or getting up early to play volleyball and then rewarding yourself with nuts and berries is just placating to a manipulated lifestyle you’ve convinced yourself is a cool catch. All you did was buy the Kombucha they sold you, now you have to ignore the bitter taste as you gulp it down just to fit in. Pour yourself another glass ‘cause it’s been a day being you.