Third time.

Last night I decided to go on a tinder date. This will be my 3rd one since I got to a new city and it’s been a cool way to meet new friends (and fuck them). There is this bar literally almost next door to my house whose clientele consists mainly of working class Latinos and a few poor ass white folks like myself. It is usually dead on Saturday nights and the pool tables are often open so I suggested we meet there. I knew I could beat the dude over there and have some alone time to knock back a shot of tequila and smoke a few cigarettes in preparation for meeting a stranger from the internet. I told him that if he didn’t see me at the bar, i’d be out back on the “patio”, which makes it sound more glamorous that it really is. being a dive and all.

I walk in and the bar is full, about 15 seats. I wiggle my way through a slurring older man and the oldest woman at a bar I may have ever seen, whose voice sounds like she came out of the womb with a cigarette in her goddamn had. I order a shot of tequila. rail. whatevers cheap. and a tecate. and a lime. I scan the room before putting the shot away, grab my beer and walk out to the patio to chain smoke, hoping this fucker doesn’t stand me up.

I have gone on a shit ton of internet dates. I literally can’t count how many at this point, and I consider myself somewhat of an expert. I’m personable enough to make people feel at ease when they first meet me, and any tension slowly melts away as the liquor flows anyway.

I get a few cigarettes deep, shoot the guy a text:

“There’s like 10 people here. this rules.”

A few minutes later I see a 6 foot something figure of a white dude in a fitted baseball cap come through the back door. Of course I’m the only one out there so immediately it’s all “hey dude! whats up!?” hand slaps and high fives. Dude sits down and we chat and smoke cigarettes for a bit.

He is terrible at eye contact, which isn’t that weird for meeting a stranger for the first time, but I catalog it in my brain regardless. observations like that can be important for putting the pieces together later. I’m about done with my beer and he still doesn’t have one so I suggest we go inside and re-up. He mentions he might not have enough money on his card for a beer, to which I reply, “It’s cool dude don’t worry about it, i can front you if you need it.” Cause what else am I gonna do? get drunk AT this dude? naw. People have bought me hundreds and thousands of drinks when I have been broke so i try to repay the favor even if its literally my last $5. We go inside and of course I forgot its cash only. So I buy each of us a $5 giant glass mug of modelo, and we go grab a pool table.

So we’re chattin, listening to the dj play an array of random ass pop and rap music mixed in with traditional mexican songs, drinkin beer. Just shootin the shit and having a good time. He’s attractive. Late 30s with a shaved head because he’s balding. sleeves of tattoos. i can tell that like me, he used to have stretched ears. I’m drinkin and thinking to myself that, yeah, i’d totally bone this dude and I hope he has a big dick. I can feel his eyes on me as i’m bending over the pool table to try to make these long shots. I know he’s thinking the same things I am from the way he looks at me, and the subtle body language as we circle around this grimey ass pool table, trying to pretend we both aren’t imagining what it’d be like to rail each others brains out.

Almost out of nowhere, in an awesome display of forwardness he says,

“You have one solid ass! Wow!”

I’m super turned on by his direct and maybe to some, douchey compliment. I smile and say “Thanks, I didn’t grow this ass on salad” We laugh and continue to play pool. Lightly grabbing at each other occasionally. A pat on the shoulder here, a flirtatious shoulder touch there. At one point while he sitting down and I’m standing up, he gives me a half hug around my ass while we’re talking, notices what he’s doing and is like “Woah im totally grabbing you right now, is that cool?!” I tell him to “grab away”.

Then we decide to go smoke some more. We sit down at the same picnic table as before and this time he sits down next to me, our legs touching. We’re the only ones out there so in no time we’re holding hands, touching each others legs and totally making out. And this guy is a damned good kisser. I tell him that and we pause to laugh about all the people in the world who for whatever reason are just fucking bad at kissing. such a simple thing and a lot of people just cant grasp the concept it seems. Maybe its more about fitting together with a person though? Who knows. If someones kiss doesn’t turn me on then I can’t fuck with it.

I don’t remember how the conversation turned, maybe it was because one of the first things I had brought up initially was that I had been doing cam work for extra money and he already sensed I was a horn ball. But we ended up talking about bdsm and I mentioned that part of the reason I swiped him right on tinder was because he listed that he was a switch in his tinder profile. I have been needing some rough kinky sex and I told him that. We talked about fucking for like 20 minutes and at this point I was feeling for his dick through his pants, hes groping me. There’s an old black dude sitting in a chair on his phone like 10 feet away from us but he was so into whatever was on his iphone that he doesn’t even notice this guy pulling my tank top to the side and touching my tits. I wasn’t wearing a bra for a reason.

All i wanted at this point was for this guy to fuck my brains out and let me call him Daddy. I wanted to suck him off and have him tell me how good it felt, what a good girl I was for doing such a good job. I probably could’ve slid off a bar stool no problem. He mentioned that if I were to turn and decide to leave he probably would’ve jerked off in his car.

We go back inside and we’re chatting and drinking more beer. I bought us another round and then a final beer for us to split at last call. I asked him if he was gonna take me home and fuck me. He says hell yes he was.

Earlier I asked if he had a room mate. He told me yes and hes an older dude from craigslist, who is a veteran and sometimes goes on a bender and passes out on the floor. I joke that I will totally help pick this old fucker up if hes all wasted on the kitchen floor. I had no idea what I was in for.

We get in the car and go, listening to Patsy Cline. I’m stoked because I’m about to get fucking laid, and maybe have some dick dealt to me the right way. the way I like it these days. rough and hard. We park the car and i’m so horny at this point that we were joking about public sex and I dropped to my knees for a second, giving him a “stick your dick in my mouth” look. He starts to take his dick out and has a flash of common sense and is like “no way, i don’t want my neighbors to see you sucking my cock”

We laugh and go into the apartment building. We walk in the apartment and there is a chick sitting in a recliner watching TV. I realize this girl is totally underage. He exclaims something to the effect of “oh shit I totally forgot my niece is crashing here! damnit! i totally spaced!” I’m standing there like WHAT THE FUCK DUDE but keeping it cool. totally confused. He introduces us and I shake her hand. awkward. He basically tells her to go hang out on the porch because we are about to fuck on the couch. This dude doesn’t have a room. He is sleeping on a couch.

At this point I’m just like, whatever, i’ll roll with it. She disappears out onto the porch. I take my pants and boots off and sit on the couch. Dude is down to his underwear. I see him walk over and come back with a small hard case thing with a combination lock on it. He sets it down, walks behind the couch to where one of those clipy flexible lights is sitting. Basically rips the damn thing out of the wall and plugs it into an extension cord.

Keep in mind I was definitely drunk, but not wasted, and I remember everything that happened, but maybe not the exact words that were said.

He says he has to do something, and I’m puzzled like, what? He enters the number on the combination lock and pops open this case. of fucking syringes, a spoon. the whole fucking shebang dude. All I can do at this point is sit and watch, like a fucking car accident you can’t look away from. I watch him shake some powder into the spoon, add some liquid. pull it up through some cotton and into the syringe. taps it to get the air out. the whole time i’m basically leaning on his arm, eyes wide, thinking, “what in the fuck is going on” But I just watch.

We don’t really talk except finally I demand he tell me what he is about to inject into his fucking arm. Meth. “its purer than adderall” he says. I just say “uh huh” and watch him shoot up.

At one point I asked him if he needed help. What else am I supposed to do? run away? If I was gonna be that up close and personal to someone doing IV drugs I at least want to make sure they’re gonna do it safely and effectively.

I had all these things runnin through my head. like the time i walked into a bathroom at a party and similarly, watched two dudes shoot heroin using the same needle. I think “what if this dude ODs in my presence?!” “what if he stabs me with a syringe” “what what what WHAT” “what if he asks me if I want a hit?!” “do I want a hit?!” “what the fuck, of course not, i’ve never done IV drugs no fucking way” “maybe? you only live once” “fuck no” “what if this dude has Hepatitis and i was THIS close to sucking him off” “his niece is on the fucking porch! and shes like 14! what the fuck”

This and other things were racing through my head. It was extremely hard to process what was actually going on. All I know is that I felt completely sober at this point. Maybe from shock.

He finishes up and eventually I get around to letting him know I am not having sex with him. In fact, I kind of want to leave or I just want to cuddle and go to sleep. He doesn’t handle the rejection well. We are laying on the couch and I just start crying. I realize I had been holding back tears for half of the time that I was watching him shoot up. Then hes apologizing profusely. I can tell hes amped up from the rate at which he’s talking and the way he is talking. Then he’s crying. I’m spooning him crying into his naked shoulder blade. rubbing his back. Hes talking about all kinds of shit that I could try to repeat but I’d probably do a bad job.

I just realized at some point during all of this that this dude needs me there. He needs to just ramble for a while and fall asleep with someone holding him. Maybe that sounds fucked or something. I could just feel his pain so much and it fucking killed me inside.

So this night goes from drunken flirt fest straight to a what the fuck kind of situation.

We eventually fall asleep, me big spoon, and i’m woken up by the room being full of light. sun shining through the huge ass porch doors with no god damn curtains. He almost bolts up off the couch and disappears off somewhere. probably in the bathroom to do another hit. he comes back shortly. offers me coffee. i decline. his neice is back in the chair on her phone. my head is throbbing. my eyes are sore from crying. He looks ashamed as fuck.

We leave and drive around. talking about last night. I buy him breakfast at my favorite spot around the corner from my house. I end up giving him my rye toast because I can’t eat it all. He scarfs everything down and we leave. Our conversation is good. He tells me that hes so sorry about what happened. I tell him it’s cool and its not my first rodeo. He tells me he quit doing opiates and has just been back into shooting meth for a few months now because he is depressed. He came to the west coast to be closer to his sister but shes in an abusive relationship and doesn’t make time for him or his neice.

I tell him about my most recent break up. He tells me thank you and im like, for what dude? He says last night was the rejection and slap in the face he needed to kind of “come to jesus” moment and that he has to quit shooting that shit. I tell him, well im glad I could help, it doesn’t seem like a good idea to continue to use drugs like that. I suggest he take up heavy drinking instead, we laugh. We are sitting on the trunk of my car in a latino neighborhood at 9am, i can hear the neighbors talking in spanish. I’m holding his arm and leaning into him to let him know I’m there and i’m listening.

He says he doesn’t have anyone to listen to him, to challenge him. He thanks me for doing that. We talk about being poor and looking for work. He has been selling drugs, I know. I know he is out of cigarettes so on the sly, i leave him the rest of my pack of maverick red 100s in the cup holder in his car. Toss back in the sunglasses that he let me borrow. I told him earlier I can’t be intimate or too emotionally invested in hard drug users because I’m a nurturer and it would create a fucked up co-dependent dynamic. He tells me thank you for sticking to your guns.

I tell him I do want to hang out again though. I know the guy needs a friend really bad at this point. Even just for a little while. He thanks me for the beer and the food and says he will pay me back someday. I tell him I know he’s good for it and rub his back. We hug and part ways and I give him a little kiss on the neck. I want to envelop him. To hold him in some sort of way that would make everything better. I want to give him my last 100$ so that he can drive to Utah to see his friend and get away from a city that exacerbates his drug use. I want to fuck him still. But I know that I shouldn’t. If it was good Id never want to stop and then where would I be? Id be banging a dude after he shoots up meth amphetamine, that’s where. I get in my car and drive away, him behind me for a few blocks. I pass the train yard. I think about how fucking insane the world is and how I just hope that I can help other people not hurt so much all the time. I take his kind words to heart, i believe him, and I will never forget my third tinder date in this city.