Seriously... how does anyone actually meet someone in this city anymore? I'm personally not a big bruncher or party animal (I've lived here for seven years... you kind of get over it) and nor are these places I'd like to find a potential match. So I turned to Tinder.
To avoid this match in question becoming a hi followed by an immediate ghosting (as is so often the case), or a litany of pen pel-style messages back and forth forever, I suggested we met up pretty sharpish. After all, whatever happened to good old-fashioned talking, face to face, IRL?
I propose a tea. I know, I know. Rock'n'roll. But also pretty innocuous, without any of the pressures that come with dinner or drinks. A tea doesn't last forever and you can both depart quickly and go about your lives if you're just not feeling it. Grosvenor House was to be the meet-up spot for this particular tea date, and so it was there that we met one casual weekday afternoon.
I could immediately tell that this guy was rather serious and figured I probably wasn't his ideal match, but regardless, we passed initial pleasantries and ordered tea. Two sips into my Earl Grey he announces, "Ok, so we've been here long enough now. What do you think?" "About what?" I reply, innocently. "About me, of course. Shall we be in a relationship?"
Cue me very politely explaining that I barely know anything about him. "Ok, well I don't get on with my brother and sister and I've never been in a long-term relationship."
“So what do you think? Do you want to be my girlfriend now?"
Needless to say, I finished my tea and left the poor guy to find the woman of his dreams. Heading out via the ladies' room, I walked past him again. He was busy taking selfies, presumably to upload as his new Tinder profile pic.
It didn't end there, though. A mere ten minutes after my departure, a dozen broken-heart emojis pinged into my inbox. When I didn't respond he immediately vanished. Unmatched, but no doubt heading to an inbox near you.