Kalah Allen

You seemed nice enough when you messaged me through Tinder. You didn’t have a clear face pic, but I thought I’d take my chances. You invited me to an art gallery shindig that you organized, which was pretty cool: DJ, free beer, good art, huge turnout. When I found you, you were sitting with a group of people and your beautiful dog. I asked how you knew these people and you said, “Oh, this is a Tinder group.” I thought that was kinda strange, but it quickly dawned on me that there was another guy there who was clearly only there to see you—instantly granting me third-wheel status. We proceeded to make awkward three-way small talk, and all I could think was, “Fuck, I need to get out of here!” So after listening to your self-absorbed life stories for as long as I could, I bounced. Maybe if you acknowledged the awkwardness of the situation, or apologized, maybe I would’ve been interested in you, but you didn’t. If you wanna live your life like an episode of The Bachelorette, maybe you should warn the people you’re going to pit against each other.—Anonymous