This is a modern dating experiment. One girl. Five dating sites. Hundreds of chats. Thirty days. Thirty dates. Eighteen guys. (?) boyfriend. To start at the beginning, click here -- or jump right in at date eight below.
Date 8/30: OkCupid Taylor*
Today is the day of my second date with OkCupid Taylor. It is also the day of my second date with Tinder Oliver*. It is also my third double-header of dates in a row. Something tells me I will be sleeping very hard tonight.
Tinder Taylor: Hey Stacie - how does 7 sound for tonight?
F. Tinder Taylor. How did I forget to put him in my calendar? This multiple dates a day thing is just too damn confusing.
Not wanting him to think I'm a flaky jerk, and somehow feeling like the truth won't really play out in my favor, I decide to blame my rain check request on family.
Me: Hi! Omg I'm so sorry. I ended up having to go up to SB for some family stuff. Sort of a long story. Can we do something this week instead?
A long story I have yet to invent. Being that I'm a terrible liar, I make a mental note to come up with something plausible many hours in advance of our eventual date -- and guiltily beseech Karma to be kind.
OkCupid Taylor's and my first date was a decently entertaining - though somewhat friendzone-y - dinner at Sugarfish. Today's activity is the LA County Fair. My inner six-year-old is beyond excited.
We're set to meet at the fairgrounds around noon, as we're coming from opposite directions. He lives in Sunset Beach, a logistical fact that stamps this dalliance with an inky expiration date, but alas, dally we shall.
I hit horrific traffic en route.
Me: I really underestimated this whole traffic situation. In the parking line thing.
I click to send, realizing with horror that the text is on its way to Tinder Taylor. I am officially the worst.
Me: Oops sorry. You're not my mother.
TT: Hah I was very confused!
Me: Haha this damn touchscreen is so sensitive.
TT: Ha true. Say hi to mom.
...Ha. Lies multiplied and crisis averted, I turn my attention to the date at hand. I'm slightly hungover and weirdly nervous -- not the most charming of combinations. Where's a Bloody Mary when you need one? Ahh glory be. There is a mini bottle of wine in the gift bag I stashed in my car after an event earlier in the week. Hello, small children in pigtails and Dora the Explorer backpacks, pay no attention to the drunkard kicking back a cabernet in the backseat of her car. Just keeping things classy over here.
OkC T and I are both a bit quiet and awkward at first -- on my end, it's mostly because I'm trying really hard not to breathe my mid-day alcoholism into his face -- but the day gradually transitions into one huge carnival of cute. We hold hands on the alarmingly squeaky ride, he wins me a giant stuffed Nemo, we split the trio of fried foods, I get hit on by the old man pirate character and sexually violated by a boa constrictor.
Once we've officially won at every adult event, we sneak into the kids' arts and crafts section to design and assemble cardboard robots, earning the adoration of the elderly volunteers. Our creations even have special little sound effects: A high-pitched "Eeeee!" for my wide-eyed girl and a robotic "Mmmmrobot" for OkC T's accordion-armed boy. Living life one rom-com at a time.
I have to speed things along at the end to get back in time to meet Tinder Oliver for our date that evening, but I think we accomplished what we came for. OkCupid Taylor walks me to my car, and once again we stand there awkwardly close and silent-ish at the end of our date. Is he just never going to kiss me? I lean forward for a delicate little liplock. A goofy grin spreads across his face. Oh man, is this what it would have been like to date as a teenager? (I was too busy brown-nosing and, like, being involved, to find out for myself.)
We part ways and I speed home to change, nap, and repeat before the evening's Arctic Monkeys concert with Tinder Oliver.
*Not his real name