So I saw this profile on Tinder. The name was right, the age was a couple of years younger than the truth and there were no face pictures, just a picture of a guy in a panda suit. It was not the kind of profile I would ever match with, but the bio sure sounded familiar:
“If you are affectionate, genuine and fun, please swipe right. If we match and you don’t talk to me you will be deleted.”
(Who the fuck is still swiping right on vaguely hostile profiles with no face pictures?)
It had to be The Toolman and I couldn’t resist swiping right to see if he had seen my profile too.
No match. Oh well.
Weeks went by and I barely opened the app as I wasn’t really looking to start anything new and I had two great guys in my rotation who were keeping me satisfied for now.
Then late on Sunday night I got a notification.
I had matched with the panda.
“Nice panda suit” I messaged.
The next morning I awoke to a new message.
“Thanks! Nice picture at the nude beach!”
It was him. He had taken that picture and this was his way of confirming what I suspected.
“I am a bit surprised to see you on Tinder?” He enquired.
“And I am equally surprised to see you. I thought you had a wife and got busted.” I retorted.
“No lol. I am replacing a fuck buddy lol.”
“So who was the woman who commented on the blog?” I asked.
“I don’t know and to be honest I don’t care.”
“She seemed to know you very well.” I urged him towards an honest reply.
“Guesswork lol. Far from the truth.” He replied unsatisfactorily.
“So tell me, what is the truth?” I pushed fruitlessly.
“I thought you and The Captain were an item.” He deftly changed the subject back to me.
“Not anymore” I said.
“I was honest when I wished you well. I hate you but want you to be happy.”
Oh for fucks sake.
“Haha!” I responded, “I don’t hate anyone.”
Because I am a goddamned grown up.
“No idea why you hate me. I’m awesome.” I pouted.
“True.” He acquiesced.
I had endured enough of this pointless conversation and told him I was going to get up and get ready for work, so wished him a good day.
“You too. I don’t hate you. I just dislike you. I guess it stems from being cheated on. Lots you don’t know about me. Anyway, I hope you are happy now xx”
“I would love to hear the full story.” I enquired on behalf of my beloved readers.
“Sorry but its personal. Some things are best to let go.”
“Man of Mystery *eyeroll*. I have let it go. It all seems so long ago. Seeya.”
And with that I was unmatched.
What the fuck ever dude. The conversation reminded me of the crazy that was The Toolman and all the half truths and tidbits and the lack of honesty. Not to mention the wanton rewriting of our history!
A week later it was Christmas Day and I was having brunch with my family.
“Hi IMHOC, hope you and your family have a great Christmas Day. *santa and Christmas tree emojis*”
The caller’s name was not in my address book and I didn’t recognise the number.
“Same to you (who is this?) :)”
A few minutes later a laughing face emoji came through.
“I’m not important lol. But its The Toolman.”
I fucking knew it.
“Oh ok. Merry Xmas.”
The next day when I had some down time, I checked my daily blog stats. They showed me I had a handful of visitors over the previous few days, but one of them had read a lot of posts. When I checked which posts, guess who they were all about?