Putting Whip Cream On This Problem

Conversations over Coffee with Samantha, a badass walking contradiction.

Fermin Hermin
Nov 7 · 9 min read

This is why I do it.

Sometimes I lose sight of why I first started this blog. This shit can be draining and I question why I put myself through it. Then I meet someone like Samantha and I remember why.

I’m so fuckin’ tired. Just physically and mentally exhausted. The traveling, work deadlines, all the messaging on Tinder and Bumble, staying out late, and the pressure of writing has me worn out.

Phoenix has not been kind to me. I’ve had three coffee dates cancel on me. The reasons? Not relevant. I’m not entitled to anyone’s time, I don’t question why they cancel nor do I question the legitimacy of their excuse.

The point is, we’re not meeting and it’s time to move on. But, it bums me out and frustrates me because I lose time. And in the last three instances, they have all canceled on the day of the date, which leaves me with a lost day.

I take no offense to people changing their minds on meeting or if they actually can’t meet. But fuck, it’s so frustrating when they do it the day of. And on top of that, how they do it.

Before every coffee date, I message to get confirmation that we are still on for the date. And with that, comes the [insert ‘hey I can’t make it tonight’ line]. I always know when someone is going to cancel. I just know.

On Monday night (Nov. 4), I was chatting with Andres about how I had two coffee dates for Tuesday (Nov. 5) but I had a feeling those dates were going to fall through. Lo and behold, they did.

I messaged the first girl to confirm. She couldn’t make it for the daytime coffee date. Later, I messaged the second girl to confirm. She couldn’t make it for out nighttime coffee date.

So here’s the frustrating part, if I didn’t message them to confirm hours prior, they wouldn’t have messaged me to let me know they weren’t going to make it. Or they would have done it at the last minute.

The latter of which is something I find to be extremely rude. If you’re going to cancel that’s fine, just fuckin’ tell me at an appropriate time! Rant aside, I woke up on Wednesday (Nov. 6) with two coffee dates scheduled.

I told Andres the previous night that I was positive the first girl would cancel just like the last two did. I was right again, three for three. But I had a good feeling about Samantha.

We started talking Tuesday night around the time my second coffee date and I were supposed to meet before she canceled. Less than an hour into talking I asked if she was free that night before we settled on Wednesday.

I super liked Samantha because of her profile photos. It was a nice mix of cool, beautiful, weird, badass, and unique. She looked like she epitomized cool and interesting. I showed Andres her profile and he agreed.

Our coffee date was slated for 8 p.m. at in Phoenix.

It was a cool spot with a book bar named connected to it.

Before I even had time to walk around and check out the selection I saw Samantha.

We shook hands and sat down. She told me about the bar's tasty sours beers. I told her I didn’t drink and ordered a tea.


My initial thought when I first saw Samantha:

“Fuck, she’s beautiful.”

I was kind of taken aback. Her Tinder profile photos were a bit all over the place in terms of giving a consistent depiction of how she looked. I was into everything about her look.

From the way she dressed to her short curly hair to her bare pale white face. She had a great smile, a cute laugh, light blue eyes, and a full-figured body. Flirting with 5'11'' she would be hard to miss walking down the street.

Now, what’s the point of mentioning someone’s looks? How is it germane to the interaction? Is any of what I just said important?

  1. There’s no point other than, I love to compliment beauty when I see it.
  2. Looks are completely irrelevant to the interaction. I swipe across people all the time who I do not find attractive.
  3. No, it’s not important.

But again, it’s always a pleasant surprise when you see true natural beauty in person. I love to stare and take women in.


We talked a lot about heartbreak.

Stories were traded, similarities were drawn, and separate but equal reminiscing was done. It sucks when you are hung up on someone. It’s such an insecure state.

Samantha and I had semi-similar heartbreak. At least in the sense of having stronger feelings for the people we were infatuated with. We both had emotional breakdowns.

She cried in his arms one night as they were saying goodbye. I went on a 2 a.m. texting diatribe with the purposeful intent of making my Unicorn feel like all we had was nothing. We both had deep insecurities.

When your feelings for someone are laced with insecurity and no confidence in the other person’s feelings for you, it can get ugly. Samantha and I didn’t believe we were really liked. I might have struggled with this part more.

I made the mistake of assuming my Unicorn’s feelings for me and disregarded them when we started talking again this year. She almost stopped talking to me when I did that. But I can only believe what I feel.

Now, fully over her and not heartbroken, I don’t see our brief time together the same way. I’m grateful for her and appreciative of the experience, but it wasn’t the connection I thought it was.

For the longest time, I thought I had an experience of love lost. In actuality, it was an experience of love never had. She wanted me but didn’t want to be with me. And when I finally acknowledged and accepted that, I moved on.

It’s liberating when you finally get over someone and Samantha would second that. But it’s also a much-needed step for the person you are hung-up on. It’s not fair to hold them to feelings they don’t have.

Rather it’s not fair to hate them for feelings that aren’t there.


She’s only 22.

I’m not much older at the spry of 25 but there’s a difference. Samantha is still in a stage in her life where she isn’t fully ready to take on her problems and past traumas head-on. I get that and I’ve been there.

She tends to put whip cream on her problems.

Or at least, that’s what her quasi-therapist/life coach says to her. Instead of addressing her shit head-on, she covers them in fluffy-white-sugary cream, to the point where she can’t even see what she’s was supposed to address.

Interesting? Absolutely.

Insightful? Without a doubt.

Mature? Work in progress.

It’s a process. Samantha is getting there but she reminds me of me in a lot of ways in terms of how she just glosses over problematic experiences. We traded stories about our sex life and I felt for her.

But the sad part was, she didn’t feel for herself. Some of her experiences are funny, little to none were sexually enjoyable, and others were sad to hear. Sex as a young adult can be a total shit show.

And Samantha has been walking in a pigsty for most of hers. Only one guy has made her cum and just two in total have found her clit. When she said that, I laughed out loud in total dismay.

Anatomically speaking the clit is in one spot and one spot only. Granted, every vagina is different and with that the clitoral hood — the foreskin that covers the clit — ranges in size and coverage. One woman can have a clit that is visible off first glance while another can have one that is hidden with needed discovery.

The point is, hidden or not, it’s in the SAME fuckin’ place!

If you’re a guy and you can’t locate the clit nor do you have a basic understanding of female anatomy, you should not be having sex. That’s not to say you can’t have sex but you need to do some homework.

I can only imagine what those doofuses think about the G-Spot.

My advice to Samantha when it comes to procuring future sexual partners would be three-fold:

  1. Eliminate alcohol. Be present. Be sober.
  2. Stop having sex with men who have a sixth grade understanding of your body.
  3. Comfort is key. You need to be open and ready to share your body. That’s the only way you will feel any type of satisfaction and pleasure.

We didn’t stay at Changing Hands that long.

Samantha likes to drive, listen to music, and think.

Inside Changing Hands, I showed her some of my poetry that I have saved on my phone. Mapping out where we would drive, we decided to stop by Andres’ house to get my poetry book.

Listening to The Cranberries and Modest Mouse on the way, we decided on hitting up before hanging out under a tunnel/walkway in the Biltmore shopping district.

We ate as she read my thoughts on heartbreak, addiction, and depression.

I’ve never let anyone read my poetry aside from my Unicorn. I don’t know why I let her but I just went with it. It was embarrassing, liberating, and kind of enjoyable.

She thought it was good. I’m still undecided.

Around one in the morning, we hit the road again. And I asked her a few questions for the road. Samantha’s contradictory nature was on full display. We’re all walking contradictions but Samantha is special.

She starts and finishes sentences with diametrically opposed thoughts.

Pulling up to my car, she got out to give me a hug as we measured our height difference. Samantha likes short guys for reasons I will opt not to disclose. A 15-minute drive home I felt good.

Samantha was genuine, hilarious, and beautiful all wrapped up into one.

People like her warm my cold ass heart. In a week where I could think of a million reasons to pack up my bags and quit writing this blog, I got one good reason to keep doing it.

Thanks Samantha, you’re the reason.

A Few Questions For The Road (Samantha’s Takes)

Rank by most to least pleasurable: Art, Food, Love, Sex, and Sleep.

1st: Art, 2nd: Love, 3rd: Sex, 4th: Sleep, 5th: Food

What is the hardest/worst thing about being a woman?

Honestly, it’s not that fuckin’ hard. But I guess the standards. It’s bullshit to be that ideal woman that shaves and wears makeup. Fuck you! Accept Me!

What is the easiest/best thing about being a woman?

Honestly, it’s really fuckin’ hard. I don’t have an easy answer for you. Just put that. But it’s about having faith in the little things.


If you like what you’ve read, make sure to give it a clap, comment, and share. You can also follow my journey on Instagram at .


Conversations over Coffee

A blog about the people I meet on dating apps as I travel the country

Fermin Hermin

Written by

I travel and write stories about the people I meet on dating apps. Follow the journey on Instagram: @fh_travels_2019

Conversations over Coffee

A blog about the people I meet on dating apps as I travel the country

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