Finally! A normal guy, at last! What??! Have I said this before?! Well. Anyway. I really think he might be the exception to the rule. I mean. He could easily be the one.
I have a gut feeling about these things. When it comes to chemistry, I can usually tell. I guess the statistics show that I can`t tell much else, though. But I mean, you gotta have chemistry, don`t you? You gotta start somewhere.
He said (wrote (if you`re one of those)) he was the coolest dad ever. Something like that. Which I found quite sweet. I usually don`t right- swipe people who hasn`t done any effort when it comes to their writing, but the dad- stuff turned me around. I guess he knew. That girls would find it sweet. Many of them do. That`s why they hold all kinds of puppies, and animal- babies, in front of them. You can hardly see them. All the men. Behind. But they don`t fool me. I can buy a damn puppy myself. And besides, their dogs are hardly any puppies anymore, – and then, who`d have them? Bad men and huge puppies. Some profiles (men, if u wish) are coming close to their 20th anniversary, you know. I`m serious! I guess that says a thing or two about my seniority, as well. And yes! I`ve never claimed otherwise. I just avoid puppies and lousy bargains. However, this man. There`s something about him. He looks like a bit of a cheeky monkey, to be honest. Mr smarty- pants. Something like that. I guess he`s easily off the hook. Because he looks so considerate. And trustworthy. But cheeky. And confident….! The real deal, and not the pretend- to- be kind. The sort of confidence you can tell by their look. Their eyes. One of the pictures showed him on a stage. While doing stand- up- comedy. Then, I was sold.
So, yes. I swiped to the right. And obviously, he did too. Luckily, I had changed the photo of me, wearing the national costume, to another one, – where I was walking on stilts. Or, at least, trying to walk on stilts. I guess that said a thing or two, also.
We`ve been the perfect match for two whole days. Two lovely days, indeed. I haven`t written him, or even opened the app, – I`ve just wanted to enjoy the feeling. Capture it. The feeling of hope. Possibilities. And dreams. And prospects. Everything that might lay ahead. I barely want him to talk. No less, write. I just want him sitting there. With his look. And his pictures. Just for a while. Just for the weekend.
The bubble eventually burst, but luckily, it turned out okay. Tinder- speaking, it could have been much, much worse.
Him: “Skien, huh? Nice. I know someone from Skien. Or Siljan, I guess it was. Enjoy your Saturday!”.
Me: “Nice! Not exactly Skien, but close enough. Definitely forgiven. Enjoy yours, too!”.
We managed to turn it up a few notches after that, and now he wants us to talk on the phone (!). On the phone! Christ. I find it soooo lame and terribly awkward. Surely, I`m quite skilled when it comes to picking up the phone or the act of talking. But talking on the phone with a person I`ve never even met…! Really, it should only apply to bankers, salesmen and people selling insurances. Enough said. I have a hot phone date, tomorrow at noon. Clearly, life doesn`t get better than that (…).