Originally published in Issue 2 these anonymous stories all come from young people (basically our mates) living and working in Paris.
Baker Boy
“The first time I used Tinder in France this boy I matched with pops up and asks me if I liked sliced bread. I don’t reply, and he continues to ask me over the course of the next few days what bread I prefer. Eventually, while quite drunk, I tell him that of course, baguette is my absolute fave. To which he replies (in French) “Well I’m a baker, would you like to try my hot baguette tonight perhaps with some cheese”, and that was the tragic end to our affair.”
Blue Lights
“Arriving in good time to my first meet up with Trevor, I stand sheepish and nervous above the metro exit – peering enthusiastically at every 20-something male walking towards my direction. I send a message explaining what I am wearing incase he was in the same predicament as me, standing on the opposite pavement – but I get no response. It’s cold, and I am inappropriately dressed for the weather. I wait in the spot we’d agreed to meet for a duration of 30 minutes with no contact. Just as I am about to re-enter the metro I receive a call. A distracted and hurried voice on the other end exclaims “I’m sorry I’m late, I’ll be there soon, I’ve been arrested.” “OK” I say, “I’ll walk towards the police car lights and meet you there”. The police depart the scene and my 3-foot-shorter-than-expected male companion saunters towards me proclaiming his innocence. He had driven his moped onto the pavement and got busted- bad luck, I agree.
We set off in the direction of the gallery entrance, but he halts abruptly and he gestures back to parked moped, “do you mind…” he said, “I need to fetch something.” I obligingly follow Trevor’s direction as he very openly and candidly explains that when he was pulled over he had on his person a rather large pocket of weed. Being the sharp, quick thinker he was, he had dropped the pouch into the leaves in the gutter next to the wheel. As we enter the security gates at the gallery, I have my bag searched and pass through the metal detectors without fuss. I look back sheepishly as Trevor does the same – it’s ok we’re in.”
Is it just me or is it hotter than the sun in here?
“I had met this guy out one night at the Irish place called O’Sullivans. That should have been my first red flag. He arrives ten minutes late, because he was next door finishing his big mac and french fries. Nothing says romance like the stench of Mc D’s. Like most establishments in Paris, this place was steaming with body heat, resulting in a less than desirable temperature. After naturally bringing that up in conversation (because that’s the only thing one talks about when there is nothing else to discuss) my date proceeded to take off his jacket, to show my his armpit sweat stains. I can honestly say, I have never been shown such a stain in my entire life.”
Guillotine
“I once went on a date with a guy who spent the entire evening describing in minute detail the abattoir he had visited the previous day. Needless to say it was rather awkward when my vegetarianism came up later on.”
Ghosted. Kinda.
“The first Tinder date I went on couldn’t have been more perfect; he was a total gentleman, took me to a bar I’d been dying to go to, and engaged me in lively conversation the whole evening. Aaaand then I never heard from him again. Okay, one date, no harm no foul. But just recently I rematched with him on Tinder somehow and he unmatched me within two minutes. And yet we’re still Facebook friends. Awkward.”
Women are crazy
“There was that one time I accepted to go on a date with a handsome guy who began talking to me while waiting for the metro. Note to all the ladies out there: don’t go out with a guy who starts talking to you on the metro. When we were ordering, he told me he didn’t drink alcohol anymore because about a year ago he got blackout drunk and bit his friend on the face. Combine that with the fact that he was 33 and the situation just got weirder. That evening after I got home, I got a text from him saying “You’re a great girl, but you have a boyfriend and I just don’t think this is going to work out.” I definitely didn’t have a boyfriend. And they say women are the crazy ones.”
Unleashed
“There was the time I matched on Tinder with one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen, but apparently without looking closely at his profile. Turns out he was looking to be a submissive to a dominant female- I didn’t get how serious he was until he posted a Calvin Klein ad with a man at a woman’s high heel-clad foot as a Tinder “moment” with the caption “L’homme à sa juste place”. Oh dear. I never met him; he ended up telling me he preferred bisexual girls and then unmatched me. Probably for the best, I’m not really into penis leashes.”
Pretty man
“We were on our way to a bar. I noticed some girls on the street corner that were clearly prostitutes, as we walked past them they said hello to my date and knew his name. He tried to tell me they’d slept with his friend and that’s how they knew his name…”
Mistaken Identity
“My gay friend Kyle and I were meeting his French fling at a bar, but Kyle was in the backseat of a taxi headed home after too many drinks. When a guy approached me speaking French, I thought it was the “friend” we had been waiting for. I bought him drinks and danced with him like a trashy college girl on spring break. We traded the sweaty basement dance floor for an empty street where we talked until morning- when I realized it was a different guy…and he wasn’t gay. That was 2 summers ago. Never met Kyle’s love – but I met mine!”
Park aux Buttes Chaumont
“We finish a bottle of cheap pink wine on the hill of Park aux Buttes Chaumont. We drink from the bottle because we don’t have glasses. Two strangers sharing spit and facts. So why are you on Tinder? For friends, I reply, thinking meekly of free drinks.”
Amour photo by Carys Fieldson.
