My friend and I have this thing where we give our dates nicknames. We are both terrible with names and therefore need a descriptive adjective to know which guy we are currently gossiping about. (Yes, I know what you’re thinking. Do we really date so many guys that we can’t keep up with their names? Yes, yes we do.)
So let me tell you the tale of Selfie-Guy. Once upon a time I was happily swiping left on Tinder, when I came across a cute guy with great hair. Each picture on his profile was an immaculate selfie, taken from the perfect angle, not too serious but definitely not smiley. 5 perfect selfies into his profile, I decided to risk it for the biscuit and swipe right. It’s a match.
We chatted for a day, realising we have a lot in common and agreeing to meet up soon. Here’s the catch: he was currently in the North because of a business project, but would return within a week. That’s pretty normal, I thought, and we continued to chit-chat on Whatsapp. He’d write me every day, showing his interest and telling me he’s looking forward to meeting me.
By that time, random Tinder guy turned into Selfie-Guy, as I received about 3 daily, perfectly angled, not-too-serious-but-definitely-not-smiley selfies. Damn, he’s hot… but, why does he take so many pictures of himself?
I told my friend about Mr. Selfie and she insisted we stalk his Instagram (as you do). To my horror we found an account filled with selfies! Spooky.
His week up north started to turn into two weeks, as the project took longer than expected. Yet, the selfies kept coming in without fail. Two weeks turned into three and before I knew it I had over a months worth of this guy’s selfies on my phone.
At this point my friend started to come up with possible explanations. “He definitely has a girlfriend… and doesn’t actually want to meet up” was my favourite one. But does that really explain all the vanity? Maybe he doesn’t exist.
It must have been close to two months, when he suddenly set the date for our first date. I was extremely curious about the man who managed to fill my phone storage space with his face.
I suggested Habanera for a quick afterwork drink on a Thursday night. I waited for him to park his car and as he approached I nearly fell over. That was definitely the guy in the millions of pictures saved to my phone… but it also wasn’t.
Someone I wouldn’t normally look twice at stood in front of me stretching out his hand to greet me. For clarification purposes, in Spain you greet people with two kisses on the cheek. Handshakes are reserved for business negotiations.
Selfie-Guy refused to pay for my drink even though he clearly thought the date was going well. I couldn’t stop staring at him, trying to find the angle at which he takes his pictures. It occurred to me that if he would just stop talking, smiling or moving, he might actually come close to those pictures.
We parted awkwardly with a handshake again. He wrote me a couple of times after the date. I didn’t reply. All I could do is look at the selfies and wonder where that beautiful human on the pictures is hiding.