How do you handle a date who only talks about himself?
It turns out, this is a recurring trait among most of the men I meet on Tinder.
As I sat in the cafe awaiting the guy who’d asked me for the third time that month if we could meet, I frantically kept checking my watch. I’m usually on time, if not too early. Time is something I cannot compromise on, and if somebody is over 20 minutes late to a date or a meeting, I just walk out. It’s that important to me. Every minute counts.
We’d been chatting for a month over Tinder, and I usually don’t give them my entire name, I go by my initials. My name is pretty unique, and one basic Google search would tell you what I liked to eat, where I worked and what I did at 9 pm everyday. So, I was very conscious about whom I let down my guard with. It was a life or death situation for me.
But after he constantly asked me for the fifth time, I let down my guard and revealed my name. I knew that I had to meet him then.
He was a business analyst who worked in Dubai for a high-profile firm. Barely 25, he claimed that people would pay anything to know what he knew, and I was curious to know what he thought he knew exactly.
He finally arrived. 15 minutes late. No apology.
7:30 pm.
Me: “Hey, how’s it going? Would you like to order a coffee?”
I look at the menu card and back at him. He doesn’t make eye contact. He mumbles something about the traffic. Oh he’s probably nervous, I think to myself.
7:33 pm.
The date: How’s work going?
Me: It’s going okay. I work as a designer here, and the hours are long, but I enjoy it. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do…
The date: Oh, I know what that feels like. I work as a business analyst at one of the top firms here in the UAE, and I’m being pursued by a few others here…I know that people will pay anything for what I know.
Me: That’s fascinating! (I’m being as polite as I possibly can.) I haven’t really come across business analysts, so this is new to me.
The date: Oh, what I do is very specific, there aren’t a lot of people like me you’ll find.
He rambles on about himself for the next half hour, cutting me off everytime I made a comment or tried to give some input.
8:03 pm.
Me: (Trying so hard not to roll my eyes at this point. Rolling my eyes comes as naturally as blinking to me.)
He went on for the next hour about his incredible job, while I made frantic efforts to look as bored as I possibly could. I fidgeted around, made an excuse to make a quick call, and ordered another coffee, just so I could block out his droning voice.
8:38 pm.
Me: Oh, look at the time, I just remembered I need to be somewhere. This was nice!
I keep come change on the table for the coffees, and he objects strongly, and says, “oh this one is on me, maybe you can treat me next time.”
I have a very strict principle that I follow religiously, I always split the bill. This way, there’s no expectation to meet another time. So when somebody strongly objects against it, that is a huge red flag.
Me: I’m not sure if I’ll have the time to meet again. You know, we both get busy with work.
The date: Oh I’ll make sure to whisk you away from work, you’re really tiny and it shouldn’t be that hard.
I blink twice. Tiny? What now? I’ve never been called that in my 23 years of existence, let alone by somebody who was barely 2 inches taller than me, but in his head, he probably thought he was 6'5'’, from the pedestal he stood on.
I let it go before the volcano inside of me exploded into a million little lava pieces, bid him goodbye and walked off to the metro station nearby.
I get home to three text messages from him.
*Hey.*
*It was really amazing meeting you.*
*I’d love to take you out again.*
Was it really?, I think to myself.
I reply, *it was nice :)*
He says, *What are you looking for here?*
I reply, *what do you mean?*
He says, *I mean, on tinder and all.*
I say, *I just like meeting new people, and seeing things from their perspective.*
He says, *Oh okay, I’m looking for a serious relationship.*
I reply,*Uh huh, I see. Can I be honest with you? I could barely get a word in, and didn’t enjoy it as much as you did. A conversation is a two-way street.*
He replies, *Yes sorry I was really nervous.*
I say, *okay, yes I figured that you were nervous, I’m willing to give this another shot.*
He says, okay.
We haven’t spoken since, but I felt that being honest is the best thing you could possible tell someone you’ve just met. Perhaps it might help them with your successor. If we aren’t honest with them, aren’t we doing them a disservice?
I know I’d like to be told exactly how I came across as, so I can work on that, or figure out what went wrong. What would you have done if you were me?
