When Doug* got matched with me on an app called Hinge, I was thrilled because growing up I always lusted after him from afar. He was 2 years older than me in high school, meaning he hung out with the socially relevant pretty girls in my grade while I tried to decipher Donnie Darko alone in my basement.
Doug grew up to be a very attractive, very short entrepreneur. He’s successful, semi-charming, and a complete jerk. My older sister had been in his grade, and prior to our date I asked about him.
“So, what’s he like?”
“Eh, I don’t know.” She scrunched her nose quizzically while rinsing some kale.
“He’s just… cheesy.”
“Cheesy like how?”
“I don’t know. Just cheesy. He just is. You’ll see.”
I walked into the sexy dim lighting of Fred’s hiking up the run in my hose so my dress would barely cover it. I had listened to Taylor Swift’s newest album in the cab, and felt ethereal and girly, like my life was about to start. Doug saw me and stood up from his chair to welcome me with eager open arms.
“Hi!” He said with enthusiasm, pecking my cheek.
Are we at an age where we do that now? Pecking on the cheek as a greeting? Fuck.
“Hi!” I awkwardly embraced him and found us face to face. To be sensitive, we’ll refer to him as a shawty.
As I settled into the booth, I caught Doug’s chocolatey eyes venturing down to my cavernous bosom. He caught himself and snapped to attention.
“So!” He asked with an overexcited smile. “What do you do?”
The date went on from there. He was one of those guys who knew exactly what scotch he liked and how he liked said scotch, and looked at me like a dumb puppy when I ordered a dirty martini without specifying the vodka. Our adorable flamboyant server said, “I’ll just surprise you.” With a grin.
“Yeah, yeah!” I said gesticulating uncomfortably. “The vodka WITH the alcohol!” This didn’t play like Jess from New Girl. It played like me behaving like a 5-year old.
He invited me to his place just down the block as we sloppily got into the elevator. He kissed me passionately, and while his personality was that of a horny TV host, I was having an internal conflict on an epic scale. Present Hannah thought, “This guy is a creep. Ew. No. Good day.” But then there was high school Hannah, and high school Hannah was jumping up and down in her velour Target pants, giant boobs in an ill-fitting Target bra bouncing screaming “DO IT! DO IT FOR ME!”
Well, I couldn’t let high school Hannah down. So, in respect to her I stupidly put out. Was the hubbub worth it? Of course not. Let’s just say as he lay back down exhausted, present Hannah thought Wait it’s over? Did it even start? While high school Hannah thought I can’t wait to tell all my friends about my new boyfriend.
We laid in bed after the deed when we heard the front door open.
“Jossshhh!” He yelled. Josh* his roommate had arrived. “Hey man get in here!”
I quickly pulled the covers over my largely exposed chestal region and looked at him doe-eyed. “What?” I asked.
“It’s fine,” he said, his leg slung over the covers exposing his small hairy ass. “He sees me naked all the time!”
Before I could retort, the bedroom door swung open, and Josh casually hung on the doorframe, a shit-eating grin on his stupid privileged face. “’Sup guys.”
“Hi.” I smiled, embarrassed. In anyone else’s world this may have had the charm of a Katherine Heigl movie, but in my world this had the pallor of a sad scene from Girls left on the cutting room floor.
“How was your day, bro?” Doug inquired.
“Eh it was fine,” Josh shrugged. “Ya know, worked on that big pitch today.”
“Yeah. Probably gonna shower. Can’t decide if I’m gonna text that chick or not…”
The two apes exchanged a knowing look when I finally interjected.
“You guys are a bad episode of Entourage right now, and I really can’t take it.”
“FALSE!” Josh yelled.
“We’re a GOOD episode of Entourage!” Doug cackled.
Josh departed and I spastically collected my clothes. There was a big part of me that wanted to yell at him for the complete lack of respect on his end, but I was far too tired. (Frankly, I couldn’t wait to binge eat some ice cream when I got home, and I prayed I remembered to DVR Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.)
“I’m… gonna go. Now.” I said.
“I can get you an uber!” He offered.
“Okay!” I accepted, because honestly what kind of server every actually knows how much money is in their bank account?
And that’s the story of my first online date. Aside from a chicken emoji now and then, I don’t hear much from Doug anymore, but high school Hannah is thrilled, and that’s worth keeping the app alive.