The Tales of a Tinderella


As you may, or may not, know I am not your average, day to day, girl. Easier said – I am not your Tuesday. But, even snowflakes like me, are often caught in the day-to-day activities of the norm.

This norm includes being on this ultra-famous app; that has brought lovers from worlds away together. If you think you know where I’m going, you’re probably right. I’m talking about Tinder.

I, myself, have also caught myself in the façade of being on Tinder. I have, pretty much, been on tinder since I was 18 years old. You know, just so that everyone knows I’m legal and whatnot. Now, I initially joined Tinder to get to know more people from where I live. But, getting to know more people online, in your area, usually, leads up to a date, hook-up, and whatnot.


When I moved to Groningen last summer, I felt kind of lonely. It’s sad, I know, but, most of my friends were away on vacation, so I pretty much had no-one to hang out with. Tinder was there to my rescue.

Fast forward to nothing successful happening on Tinder, no, not even a date – we find ourselves round end of September, beginning of October. I match with this guy, let’s call him Larry. He seems nice, talks to me often and knows how to reply fast (very important dudes and dudettes). As it turns out he lives in my neighborhood, isn’t that wonderful?

After curving him many times, he asks me again to meet/hang out.I finally decide to go meet him at the shopping center, a public place to avoid me from getting abducted or something. He arrives on his bike, very Dutch, we greet each other by shaking hands and the first thing that throws me off this smell, the smell of disgusting perspiration. I gave no mind to that at all, maybe he worked out and didn’t have proper time to shower or whatever.

The date/meetup goes well, nothing interesting happens.

Then, I get invited over more frequently, nothing turns to make out sessions and, luckily, stays at just that. So, I thought.

One night, I went over to meet Larry’s best friend, Olly. Surprisingly, he’s actually very cute but I say nothing about this to Larry. Couple drinks later, I’m rapping my heart out to Nicki Minaj, Tupac, and Eminem. To Larry’s account, he’s amazed by my skills and starts saying to Olly, "I should marry this girl." Lol, bye.

My fat ass is now drunk and hungry. Thus, I decided to order pizza and bike to go get it. Getting there was alright, coming back, my drunk self-decided to Snapchat, ride my bike and try to turn on the bike lamp because I felt irresponsible. To no surprise, I end up falling off my bike onto the road. I manage to brush myself off and make it back to Larry’s house and when I go to lock my bike, I notice that my keys have broken off, how wonderful.


Back at Larry’s place, the party continues and, at a certain point, he grabs me and tells me to become his girlfriend because, "He really likes me, I understand him," and a whole 'lotta BS from his lips come out. I tell him that I’m not ready, while in reality I just didn’t like him like that. I might have even liked his best friend more, oh well. I tell him that I would give him an answer after my exams because, "I really needed to focus on school."

It is now a few days later and it’s my exam week and that antagonizing question still hadn’t been answered. I was at a friend’s house, on the low, minding my own business, and Larry just randomly texts me, "It’s alright, you don’t want a relationship with me anyway," and I dumbfoundedly reply, "That’s not true," as to which he assumes is a, "Yes." So stupidly, I end up in an unwanted relationship.

Facebook goes crazy, parents send me their blessing and whatnot, I myself, am still pretty much confused as to what’s going on.

Around five days into the relationship, Larry asks me to come sleep over. I tell him no because I snore and he has a small bed and that just won’t work. He keeps insisting and I eventually end up staying, we have a few drinks, he has the most, while I’m just there with period cramps. At approx. 1 in the morning, I tell him that I’d like to go to sleep as my stomach is killing me – which was actually true. Ladies, y’all know what I’m talking about. He brushes me off by saying that we’ll go to bed as soon as he’s finished all the alcohol in his house (three 0.5L beers and a 0.75L wine which was actually mine).


Fast forward to an hour later and he’s knocked out on the couch. I just had enough, so I walk out and decided to bike back home. He tries to stop me but I've had it!

When I get home he tells me to not talk to him for a while as I, "Really hurt him," and that he just, "Wants to be there for me," but, I do not know in which world he lives in where by being drunk and passed out you could be there for someone???

The following morning, day 6 of the relationship, I wake up with a huge bible paragraph text from Larry, saying how he’s sorry and that he really loves me and all those shenanigans, all to which I reply to him, "I don’t think that I can do this, a relationship. I’m not ready."

And that’s the end of my Tinderella story, it did not have such a "Happy ending," like how it usually goes in fairy tales. But, I sure as hell learned my lesson of not dating people from my neighborhood.

Ps. many details have been left out and names have been changed for personal purposes. But, don’t worry, those other details can always be written in another blog post.

Stay tuned.

Kisses,

Tinderella xx

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this blogpost are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official views of Phryme Magazine.

#tinder #sex #love #arguing #funny