I Flew to Washington DC to Meet a Guy from Tinder

“Hey what are you doing next Saturday?”

It started with the innocuous question I get asked frequently from my Tinder matches.

“Working most likely, why?”

“Do you want to fly to DC to see a professional soccer match?”

*cue loud cackle*

So what did I do you may be asking yourself? I moved my schedule around. Booked a last minute ticket, after doing the thing where you like go through all the steps to book a flight and then close the tab. And then open it again, stare at it, call yourself crazy, and close it again.

Phew though, last minute flights can take a pretty penny out of bank account when you weren’t factoring it into your bills. So what does he do? Pays for half my flight. A super sweet and unexpected gesture.

Now who the hell is this guy who Saba flew across the country to meet? A complete stranger? A serial killer? A catfish? Yes, all of those things. He killed me and now I’m a ghost.

No, in reality his name is Dani, and he was my “Perma-match” on Tinder. He’s the person who no matter how many times you delete the app and download it, you always match with this person. At my calculation we had been talking on and off for 3 years, matching when I first moved back to Madison after college.

This being said I had been comfortable enough on multiple occasions to meet up with him, but things kept getting in the way. I got food poisoning, he got his dick broken, you know, normal stuff.

Please, don’t think I’m completely irresponsible, I harassed literally everyone I knew to ask if I was being crazy. After a day or two of back and forth I said fuck it, the flights lined up perfectly with work and why not go see a professional soccer match between Arsenal FC and Real Madrid.

So Monday rolls around, I have my cheeseburger backpack packed with the bare minimum, I give the key to one of my partners in Minneapolis to feed the cat, and hop in my Uber.

My flight arrived in DC in the early afternoon, so I took another Uber to the address of the Air BnB he had provided to me. His flight didn’t arrive until much later so I had some time alone. As this was my day off, I did what all people do. I watched the entire new season of Queer Eye and enjoyed a cup of tea.

Then I get a text saying he had landed.

It is always funny to me that people get super worried about having to talk to someone for an extended period of time. A few people from work had asked if I was worried about talking to him for so long when we had never met in person. I forget that because I’ve worked customer service, that you are always talking. No matter what, you’re talking and making conversation to the point you don’t realize that what you’re doing is a skill.

He arrived and we chatted for a bit, and went to find a bar. I did fuck up and not eat enough, and I went from zero to wasted far too quickly. Partially because the couple we met bought us tequila shots towards the end of the night. So this is my PSA: Do not drink on an empty stomach.

Eventually got back to our Air BnB around bar close, I think I passed out on the couch. He went upstairs to sleep, came down to check on me at like 3 am? Who knows. Woke up, drunk washed off my makeup and crawled into bed.

I can feel my stomach turning as I write this. Started our day in DC being completely hungover, and definitely suffering from alcohol poisoning. It was maybe noon by the time I had slowly gotten dressed and was ready to leave. It involved a lot of stopping like I was going to vomit, and then continuing on. I was impressed.

But of course, he calls our Lyft so we can find food, and I get the coating in my mouth. I go in the bathroom, take off my hoops, and vomit up purely bile. Like my whole body is rejecting alcohol and freeing my soul from damnation, I saw god and she is cold and porcelain.

Got off my knees, wiped the sides of my mouth, checked my lipstick, put my hoops in and our Lyft arrived 2 minutes later.

The day was actually super fun, besides the hangover. After a slow lunch, a stop at Walgreens for pain killers and Gatorade, we were off. Walked the National Mall, flipped off the White House, took tourist photos, and enjoyed the beautiful July day on Capital Hill. I haven’t been to DC since my first time there in middle school, so it was a unique way to go back, and also to walk off my hangover.

We chatted the entire day, and finally made our way to the big match! This guy really really really loved soccer. We were in the 7th row. So close I could have thrown my drink at Zidan Zidane.

The energy was insane. People were so stoked because it was both teams first time playing on US soil. I got swept away in it, who wouldn’t? I am actually a huge soccer fan, so I was fully geeking out with Dani. They finished with a very dramatic tie of 2-2, and did a penalty kick shoot out.

After a long day we made our way back to the Air BnB, after waiting 30 minutes for our ride, sitting in traffic, and generally being exhausted. Made out a bit, took a shower together, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Please be aware that I’m writing about this because it was something outside my normal. I really am a much more boring person than I appear on Instagram. This story is not to brag about this super hilarious encounter where I slept with a man off the internet after flying to the east coast, but rather to encourage you all to take a risk. Stop fucking working, for one day.

You bet your ass I woke up at 3 am the next morning, rode to the airport and got on a flight home, and then worked a full 9 hour shift. I’m not saying be irresponsible.

Up until July I had really been doing nothing besides working and occasionally going out on dates, or going to concerts. I needed to do something, well, stupid. I had to. I keep getting trapped in these monotonous loops and this was my way to do that.

Though this is in no means the best plan I’ve ever had, I had a lot of fun. I got to enjoy a summer day in Washington DC, go to a nail-biting professional soccer match, all while having basically one super long first date.

This is my message to all of you reading this to get out there and do something stupid. Spend too much money on concert tickets to your favorite band, fly for the weekend to a city you’ve never been to, or just go do a thing that’s not in your daily routine.

I know myself well, and I know that I would have spent my day off in bed, watching Netflix and not going outside. I’m trying to do more, to push my anxious self to do things outside my comfort zone. I feel like I’m always anxious, or nervous, or STRESSED, and if I live my life like this I’m going to die.

Tell me the craziest thing you did in 2019?

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