Name: Robin
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 24
Occupation: Graphic design
Dating history: Lots of hits, lots of misses
Looking for: My very own Pedro Pascal
I matched with this guy on Hinge. His profile was slightly more unique than the others I’d encountered. You know, none of the classic prompt: “What are you competitive about?”, alongside the even more classic answer: “Everything.”
We got chatting and everything seemed pretty positive. There was some unusual chat about how much he loved frogs, but I thought ‘each to their own’ and after a few days, we agreed to meet at a pub near my flat.
I was running slightly late so when I arrived he was already sitting at a table near the bar. He spotted me and when I got to the table, he hugged me hello. I did find it slightly strange that he didn’t actually stand up to greet me, but I let it slide and pretty soon, we were engrossed in conversation.
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After 30 minutes or so, he let me know that he needed to officially break the seal and head to the loo. And then, before I could even reply, he hopped off of the stool—and I mean hopped. His head dropped down about a foot and as I processed his height, he then turned around and I quite literally gasped as I saw a rattail bouncing about at the back of his head.
The long and thin ponytail ran all the way down past his bum and tickled the tops of his trainers. I just couldn’t quite believe it. While he was away from the table, I frantically went back onto his Hinge profile to check and see if I’d missed it somehow. And low and behold, there it was. I must’ve literally just completely skipped past that one picture.
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When he came back, we continued chatting but I just couldn’t stop my brain from focusing on his hair style. The height difference wasn’t much of a concern for me, I’ve always been a fan of short kings, however, a rattail might just be a step too far.
Since then, he’s messaged me a few times on the app and we still chat every now and then, but honestly I’m not sure what to do. Is it socially acceptable for me to say that we can go out again if he gets a haircut? Or do I just need to accept we’re not meant to be?
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Name: Jojo
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 21
Occupation: Masters student
Dating history: Lots of frogs
Looking for: Someone with tattoos and a membership to the Tate Modern
So, after having finally escaped from the complete train-wreck that is university romance, I entered my 21st year looking to have fun and meet people who were more on my level, and not solely interested in the student union dance floor.
I matched with a short king on Hinge and after briefly exchanging niceties, we set a date to visit the local Wetherspoons—romantic, I know. Anyways, the conversation was good—£4 gin and tonics to thank for that—and after knocking knees under the table for an hour or so, we decided to try out a new bar across the road.
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We walked straight into a flamboyant yet intimate Drag performance. At first glance we telepathically agreed that potentially this wasn’t the most ideal ‘getting to know each other’ setting but before we had a chance to slip out the door we were acknowledged by the drag queen on stage, welcomed and set at the only free table. Naturally, the last seats left were placed directly in front of centre stage. You can see where this is going…
Despite not meaning to fall upon a live performance, we were immediately gripped. A talent show began and pretty soon we were having the best time, laughing together and screaming in admiration for the incredible performers.
Then came the comedy round—now, this is where things became truly memorable. Naturally, when it was announced that they’d be plucking a drag virgin out of the crowd to dance with onstage, I knew that my date was in trouble. And I was right.
They scooped him up, publicly acknowledging the fact that as a straight white man it was his duty and responsibility to play along—I mean, c’mon, it was the least he could do. And, to give him credit, he took it in his stride and smiled as the queens squeezed his muscles, licked his ear, and finally stripped his t-shirt off. To be completely honest, I think he quite liked it.
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We walked home together, laughing and reminiscing on the events of the evening. He didn’t seem to be too scarred by the experience and, for me, it was a serious green flag to see him take it in his stride. We’ve been messaging a little bit since and I’m really keen for another date but I wanted to check what the internet’s thoughts were. Is this guy too good to be true?
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