dating

Rosie Recaps: The epic Tinder date she went on last night.

I don’t know how to people. I’ve never understood it.

Social situations are exhausting and scary to me and I hate them. Can’t we all just sit in our respective blanket forts watching TV and communicating only by tagging each other in memes?

That healthy attitude towards life is why I’ve come to enjoy Tinder.

You can literally swap Seinfeld quotes with a new cute friend while sitting on the toilet. Or in bed. Or hunched over the kitchen sink while you attack a mango that you didn’t want to put on a plate so you wouldn’t have to wash it after.

Tinder lets me socialise on my terms. As a painfully shy and ridiculously socially inept individual, I like that Tinder lets me get to know someone from the comfort of home, and not the anxiety-inducing hell that is face-to-face contact with a person you’ve never met.

Tinder is the introvert’s secret dating weapon.

Of course, you eventually have to transition from messaging while pantsless on the couch to, you know, a real life date in real life land. And that’s where it all usually falls apart for ol’ Rosie. Because I just don’t know how to people.

Why then, would I post to my pretty big social media following that I have matched with another writer who would like to go on a date with me? Why?

GOOD FUCKING QUESTION. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT ROSIE?

Ah… yeah. This whole situation may have got away from me a bit.

So, here’s how it went down.

I matched with a dude on Tinder who I sort of recognised. His profile said his name was Matthew and that he was the tech editor at news.com.au. So obviously, I immediately googled him (I have no shame – anybody who says they don’t google Tinder matches is straight up full of shit).

During my shameless web-stalk, I discovered that my new buddy Matthew used to be a dating columnist in Townsville, which was beyond hilarious to me. I messaged him and told him so.

He then took a screenshot of that message and shared it on his Facebook, so I took a screenshot of his message telling me that he had shared my message and I shared that on my Facebook. It was the very grown up equivalent of passing notes in class, and my Facebook followers went crazy over it.

Image supplied.

I’m not gonna lie, it was fun seeing how much they loved analysing what was quickly becoming the great romance of our time. Matt and I kept messaging back and forth, mainly about how people seemed to be either #TeamMarryHim or #TeamRosieShouldRunAwayImmediately

But it’s all fun and games until someone has to meet someone in person. And then Matt asked if I would meet him in person.

Image supplied.

Shit.

Leave my house? Put on pants? Socialise with a new human? Now that’s just crazy talk.

The whole thing was just a hilarious joke to me and then I realised I would have to actually follow through with an actual date. Face-to-face. In real life. With a writer. Who would almost definitely want to write about it, including all the embarrassing and awkward ways in which I would inevitably behave.

WHAT HAD I DONE?

But then I remembered, “Rosie, you’re also a writer you idiot. Suck it up and get a good story out of this. You are going full gonzo. This could be your Walkley moment. Sacrifice for your art etc. By the way you look really pretty today that new Gorman top was totes worth it love you babe.”

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So it was decided. We would go on a real life date.

And - I can’t believe we did this but I guess we’re both writers - we literally set a writing embargo. Neither of us was allowed to publish a story about the date until 1pm the following day.

Yes - a date embargo. That is the enviable high point my romantic life has reached.

So, date day. We had messaged a bit during the week and Matt said he didn’t like Seinfeld so I had pretty much written him off as a potential soulmate. He also told me a bunch of people had sent him the naked photo that I posted on the internet earlier this year. FML. Of course they had. I was actually going to meet a dude who knew more about my nipples than he did about Seinfeld.

This is not a good sign you guys. #possiblemediapowercouple

A photo posted by Rosie Waterland (@rosiewaterland) on

I showered. Like, a proper shower where I washed my hair and didn’t just sit on the floor while singing Disney songs. I picked a cleavage top, because I figured after the naked pic thing it couldn't hurt to prove that I do occasionally wear bras. I had suggested a place close to home, so that I could easily sneak away while he was the bathroom, should the need for that option arise.

But… It didn’t. I did not need to execute my escape plan. The date… Wasn’t terrible?

Matt was lovely. Sweet and funny. Not at ALL my usual type. I’ve pretty much only ever dated shy, unassuming dweebs who like the same TV  as me.

Matt is cocky and confident and very, very blokey. He is probably the Aussiest ‘Aussie Bloke’ I’ve ever been out with. He’s covered in tatts, loves sport stuff that I don’t care about and grew up in regional Queensland. He sounds like he should do the voice overs for beer commercials that air during the NRL Grand Final.

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He is smart and charming and I like his writing and we talked a lot about all of the things. He made me forget that I don’t know how to people. I can't really see myself ever romantically dating him, but I definitely had fun.

Then we accidentally made out. Whoops!

When you're early to meet someone but secretly you're stoked cos it means you can listen to podcasts and start getting pissed.

A photo posted by Rosie Waterland (@rosiewaterland) on

Yeah. So… We only live a couple of streets away from each other, so he very sweetly offered to walk me home. Then, when we got there, I remembered that he’s the damn tech editor at news.com.au, so of course I decided it would be completely appropriate to ask him to fix my Apple TV.

I swear to Oprah it was not me making a move. I legit just really wanted my Apple TV to work, since I had spent an hour trying to do it myself and ended up in tears, imagining Steve Jobs laughing hysterically at me from iHeaven. And here was a technology expert on my doorstep! It was perfect!

So then he came in, and yadda yadda yadda (a reference only potential soulmates of mine would understand)… He kissed me. And it was a good kiss, so I kissed him back. And then we did some more of that for a while. And then we stopped to renegotiate the terms of our embargo, both agreeing that the making out was allowed to be mentioned. Then we made out a bit more. And then, like a gentleman, he went home.

Devastatingly, he didn’t actually end up fixing my Apple TV, which I may or may not have preferred to the making out. Just because, you know, making out is fun, but I really, really like TV.

PS - He left his glasses at my house, which I didn’t notice until this morning. I immediately thought it was a creepy George Constanza-esq move in order to guarantee a second date with me. But then I remembered… He wouldn't know that's a classic Constanza move, because he doesn’t like Seinfeld. Defs not Rosie Soulmate material.

You can read Matthew Dunn's account for News.com.au, here.

You should follow Rosie Waterland on Facebook right here. And you can buy her best-selling book, ‘The Anti-Cool Girl’, by clicking here.

You can also listen to Rosie Waterland on Mamamia's podcast, The Binge. You can listen on iTunes, here, or on Omny, here

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