About a year ago, I was bored scrolling through Tinder. It was around 10 pm and not too late. I was feeling the kind of horny that can’t be sedated through masturbation alone. I was craving intimacy and company. So I was scrolling through my matches looking for an evening suiter as it was too short notice to arrange anything with my other fuckbuddies.
Soon I found myself studying Omar’s profile. He had dark hair, coal-black eyes. His body looked as if it had been labouriously chiselled for months. We had spoken once or twice, and though there was a connection there, it was nothing to rave about. Luckily for me, in our earlier conversations, he had mentioned he lived 30 minutes away. So I took my chances and dropped him a message.
He responded soon after saying he was free to meet up. We swapped numbers and talked for a while. He explained how he was finishing up with some university work, but he would be able to walk over to mine within the hour.
Everything was going to plan. I stopped relaxing and began to tidy up my room a little bit. I also had a shower to kill some time. By the time I had finished nesting, 45minutes had passed. So I dropped him a quick message to ask how far away he was. He assured me he would be there in 15 minutes.
At the time, I lived in private student accommodation. The residence was situated at the end of a very long road. The place also had two entrances. Most taxi drivers knew of the front but didn’t know there was an entrance that led to the back of the accommodation. Many assumed the road led to a dead end. During warmer weather, I would have no issues walking to the front; however, in cold England winter weather, I would ask they come to my door. I didn’t mind paying extra, and the only cost to them was driving 5 seconds more up the road and taking the far right.
I explained this to Omar — navigation devises also always told people there was no road so I knew he would come into some problems. He reassured me he was following, and I put on Netflix to pass the time. Fifteen minutes soon turned into 30 minutes, and I still hadn’t heard from him. So I decided to call to see how he was getting on.
I have been ghosted prior a meetup before so I wasn’t too concerned, but if he wasn’t going to show up I wanted to know so I could get to bed! He picked up and told me he was a little lost. So I ran through my address again and asked him to describe his surroundings.
“Did you walk all the way down [redacted] road?” I asked.
“Yes. I mean no, my navigation said there is no road up there, so I took a different one.”
“I thought I explained this earlier; all you have to do is continue walking up [redacted] road and take the very very far right. What the navigation is telling you is wrong.”
“I don’t see why it would direct me to the wrong place… I think you’re mistaken. There isn’t a road up there.”
“I think I know where I live Omar,” I replied, frustrated.
“Are you sure I need to walk all the way up? I don’t see why Google would lie. I think I’m just going to keep walking around. Don’t worry. I’ll be there soon.” He said as he hung up.
I believe everyone should be left to do what they want to do. If they’re going to make a mistake, then so be it. However, in this case, I was frustrated. Both because I was horny and also because Omar had just mansplained my address to me. A flat I had lived and walked to. A place I’d taken taxies to and fro for the past eight months. Yet he believed he (assisted with google) knew better than me. The situation was laughable. I was bewildered at the audacity of both his arrogance and confidence. However, he was on his way, so I decided to give him a chance.
Another 15 minutes slipped by and still no Omar. So I called him again, but he didn’t answer. After another 10 minutes, I had given up all hope of him showing up. I began to get ready to go to sleep and then I heard my phone buzz. Omar had sent me a picture and wanted to know if he was getting close. First of all, it was now close to midnight, so I couldn’t see a thing in his grainy picture and secondly I was now angry. So I text him my initial instructions, using caps lock liberally for emphasis.
It would be another 20 minutes before he showed up. He found the whole situation hilarious. He kept telling me how he should have listened to me as “I was right all along.” Of course, I would be, it was my flat. I was extremely irritated by this point. Omar was nice enough, but the past hour and a half had left a bitter taste in my mouth.
The sex was…interesting. Though we were both attracted to each other, we had no sexual chemistry. He kissed and fucked me as I would imagine a puppy transformed into human form would.
Overall I give the whole experience a strong 4/10 though he had the time of his life. He messaged me a few times wanting to meet up, but I blew him off every time. He was friendly, hot and intelligent. However, I would never be able to get over how he tried to explain my address to me.
Advice to all men out there — if a woman gives you navigation instructions to her household, it’s best to listen. Seeing as we live there, we may actually know better.