We met through Tinder...that’s your first sign that this is
going to be a great story.
Dave, the Tinder candidate, has a lot going for him. He is
an engineer at a VERY reputable company, he owns a boat, and his pictures make
him look pretty cute. Score!
We both were going to be on the beach on Sunday afternoon,
so he said he would text me and if we were both around we could get a drink or
something. Okay, sounds good to me.
I was just laying on the beach and Dave texts to meet up.
Although I was almost ready to go, I decide to stay a little longer and meet up
with him. As he walks up, he is literally hauling his bike on the sand to come
meet me. It is 80 degrees outside and he is sweating pretty bad. He explains
that he forgot his bike lock. I think to myself, Dave! You could’ve had me meet you on the path since we were going to
head towards Main Street anyways!
As we start walking Dave tells me that he was just at the
dog beach—strange seeing as he does not have a dog. But he explains that his
ex-girlfriend and him share their two dogs that they got when they were
together. He tells me that they used to live together and were in the
relationship for six years. When they broke up, she moved to a guest bedroom in
his house. Apparently the only reason that she moved out is because she could
no longer afford rent and had to move to a more affordable location. He is now
living with interns from foreign countries that work at his company. They
always find the next room mate, so, like a hostel, his house is always full of
foreigners.
His ex still comes over to the house everyday to drop the
dogs off because his schedule is more flexible. It’s best for the kids
dogs that they split custody. I’m so glad they are so close. They are civil to
be going to the dog beach together. I asked what kind of dogs they are.
Maltese’s. Both of them are Maltese’s. Tuesday Dave is playing dad over two
little fluffy fruffy dogs. How manly.
Wow! Wait, there is more!
He recently celebrated his 30th birthday. He
threw a “Black Light Party” at his house. I thought it sounded a little swanky;
perhaps he does have class? I questioned him to probe more information about
how a black light party works. He kept explaining that they had the whole house
blacked out and put black lights up in every room. I learned that laundry
detergent is the best black light “paint” because it is clean but has the nice
florescent glow. He has been partying for a week straight because the theme was
such a hit. He even had pictures (my right eyebrow is raising for all of you
readers right now). I only wish I had those photos.
The pictures perfectly resembled a college party. He hung
tarps in his basement (some falling and some hanging crooked). What a great
party (sarcastic tone intended).
Are you asking yourself how he got the name Tuesday Dave?
Well, here it is:
He tells me he goes to a bar every week (think about that
bar where everyone who just turned 21 goes to get plastered). The bar is in
Huntington Beach and it is called Sharkeez, but I think they should rename it
Trasheez. They celebrated his birthday too, which happened to be on a Wednesday
this year. They even had a special promotional poster out that says “Tuesday
Dave on Wednesday”. He goes to this waste hole of a bar every week on Tuesday
to the point that all the workers know him by Tuesday Dave and even made a
poster to celebrate his birthday on a Wednesday. How nice.
We finally got to the restaurant, where he had to carry his
bike up the stairs so it wouldn’t get stolen. We put our name down for a table
then got a drink at the bar and tabbed out when our table was ready. He ordered
chips. We talked a little more and I told him I lived in Huntington Beach. He
had a very confused look on his face and started to say “Oh I thought you” but
then stopped. He kept this confused look on his face and continued to dig into
the deep recesses of his mind because he clearly could not keep his Tinder
accounts straight. Tuesday Dave is clearly a lady killer.
He then talks about how he goes out on his boat every
Wednesday, actually, a boat that him and his buddy co-own. He says he has to
get at least 20 people on board when they go to Catalina because that is the
best way to split the gas bill. Otherwise, it is cheaper just to take the
ferry. And bonus: he said I was welcome to come any time I want. Perfect! Wait,
is he going to charge me to get on his boat?
He stares down at his phone as he gets messages (which you
all know how I feel about that). He said his buddy is having a pool party right
now and wants to know if I want to go.
Hold on Tuesday Dave!
I just met you and that was a lot of social pressure to commit to hanging out
with you the next few hours. I do not know your random friend and I don’t want
to go to his pool party. Plus, it is a Sunday: who is partying that hard on a
Sunday!? And finally, there is the small fact that I already want to leave
because you are clearly an idiot!
“Yes! I would love to go!” I responded. I figured he would
have to take his precious bike, which would not fit in my car. I would get to
my car and tell him my roommate just said she was making lasagna and I would
have to be a damn fool to say no to that. He would understand and I would never
have to see him again.
We were ready to leave and ate all of the chips. He asks the
waitress to make sure the chips were free (they were). He doesn’t even leave a
tip. I am horrified, which makes me feel even better that the lasagna lie
played out perfectly to plan.
Over the next few days I heard a little bit from Tuesday
Dave, but I figure that my consistent response of saying no to him is what made
him quit contacting me.
And that is the story of Tuesday Dave.
