My First Tinder Date In 3 Years Ended In The Most Awkward Escape From His Home

by Kim Boateng Last updated on July 22nd, 2017,

If you know me at all, you know I’m a Gold Certified Member of the Lonely Hearts Club (no, it’s not a real thing, but it should be). bI don’t date. I don’t go near guys. I don’t look at guys (well, sometimes). Basically, I have no intention of dating anyone or sleeping with anyone anytime soon.

Back in 2016, after being out of the dating game for sooooo long (three years to be exact), I decided to download Tinder. It could be fun, eh? What’s the harm? All I wanted was ONE date to help my self esteem — have someone buy me lunch, dinner, whatever. Maybe a kiss. That’s all I wanted, honestly.

The Tinder thing was easy — mindlessly flirting with strangers as I sat with a face mask on and a bowl of tortilla chips in my lap, telling them what I was ‘really wearing.’ (“A black lacy bra and thong to match!” Sure.) Cringe-y but true.

Unfortunately, there was a long string of guys I could never quite get to the meeting stage with — on the day of the “date,” something would always come up. Whatever.

I did eventually decide to go on a date with someone. I’ll admit, he wasn’t my first choice, but beggars can’t be choosers and I wasn’t having much luck.

The date was normal. We met in his hometown and went out for food and drinks. And then, well, we went back to his place.

Things got a little heated that night and we decided to slow it down (this was a first date, after all), and the guy fell asleep.

I was wide awake, half-naked in his bed, just thinking, “Well, I can’t stay here!” It was 1 am, he was snoring his head off and all I could do was obsess over how I had work in the morning.

So I decided to climb out of his bed. You can just go ahead and call me Tom Cruise because this was like “Mission Impossible,” and I was some sort of naked ninja picking up pieces of clothing tossed around the room in a moment of drunken passion earlier. I even managed to find my thong!

I gathered my things in full stealth mode and ran straight for the front door. But then, disaster struck. It was locked, and the keys were in his room.

I ran upstairs, where some doors opened out to the garden from the lounge. “Do I make a jump for it?” I thought desperately. I toggled the doors, but they were locked, too. Eh, it was probably not a great idea, anyway.

Then I ran to the kitchen. Behind the sink and behind masses of pots and pans, I could spot a way out: a teeny window.

I leaned over the pots, fully prepared to wiggle out, before accidentally clanging the pots together loudly. Hearing someone approach, I put on my best sheepish face and prepared for the worst.

Luckily, it was his flatmate who emerged, half-asleep. I manage to keep it together enough to politely ask him to let me out, which he quietly did.

FREEDOM!

I ran as fast I could down the street in a skimpy denim dress before hailing a cab to head home.

The strangest part of the story? There was actually a second date.

Author

Kim Boateng

Kim Boateng

With a Degree in Environmental Sciences, Kim the self professed jack of all trades and master of some simply "goes there" and brings a level of attention and detail to Nigeria Circle's quest for excellence in investigative journalism that sets her apart. Before journalism she worked in Safety, Quality Assurance and Control in several industries.
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