Have you ever had one of those weekends where so many weird things happen in a short amount of time that none of it seems plausible? Like, anything that could possibly happen does happen. My Saturday night started out simply enough. I went to the Red, White, and Booze party and was stirred by all the patriotic pride. The jello shots and abundance of Taylor Swift songs didn’t hurt either. The night was still young when I headed to another party … and that’s where things got dicey.
I was at this party where I introduced myself to this guy. We were conversing casually until, in my drunken stupor, I realized he was one of my Tinder matches. I know we’ve seen the dangers and hilarity that ensue in Tinder flirting, but no one has warned us about the awkwardness of actually bumping into a Tinder match in real life. I almost always “like” every person who goes to Brown because, I figure, why not? Tinder is thoroughly entertaining and allows people to make snap judgments about others based on their aesthetic appeal.
Which is actually kind of demeaning when you think about it.
Anyway, this match and I had conversed in the virtual Tinder world. Talking in real life was even more strange. I pulled up my freaking Tinder account on my phone to prove that we both, at some point in the past, had found each other at least slightly attractive. He just gave me weird looks. Unsurprisingly, even the sparks of Tinder weren’t enough to bring us together.
At that point, I figured things couldn’t get any more strange but, of course, they did. Standing in the corner, bopping my head to the music, I checked my phone. There, blinking at me in the darkness, was the name of an ex I hadn’t spoken to in months. Honestly, I thought I was beginning to hallucinate. It was only one jello shot, right??!
Yes, unfortunately, it was. And the funny thing is this idiot booty called me and we don’t even go to the same college! Oh yeah, “Hey,” to you too. Yeah let’s hang out. I’ll just take a $30 taxi ride. I’m basically paying to hook up with you which is probably some veiled form of prostitution. Ugh, the kids at PC.
Luckily, I did not fall into any more weird shenanigans that night. However, on Sunday night, I was awoken in the middle of the night by a loud banging on my window. Thinking I was about to be attacked by some creepy Peeping Tom, I grabbed my pepper spray and prepared for this perv to lunge through the window. As I turned the blind, I came face to face with a drunk hallmate casually standing in his boxers. He kinda looked like this. Did I mention he was holding a traffic cone?
Let’s just say I can’t wait for this weekend.