How I got Banned from Hinge (again)
on my second iPhone, which I bought specifically to get back on Hinge
It was the last day of pride month.
I made my blog private because I had a Date.
We met on Hinge, it materialized quickly, she was a decent-looking big tall Japanese girl with a slightly busted face but also slightly busty breasts.
It was really just one picture that saved her, for me. Tight black T shirt where her big nipples shone through. At least C cups. She had an “artistic” vibe, which always means she’s going to be an insufferable gay narcissist. Black and white, sitting and staring off into the distance, “photographer” kill yourself, AI will do your job, suck my dick, etc,
She has since un-matched me so I can’t go back and retrace the steps of our conversation, but I remember that I enticed her out with the possibility of attending a “Trivia Night” at a gay bar downtown.
We’re in Portland Maine, an idyllic vacation spot for people who are pretty much done with their lives. Rich white boomers everywhere. Nobody has a job, it’s Monday afternoon.
We meet by the water. East End Beach. Everything in Portland is 10 minutes away.
She’s 5’11 but even taller than that because she’s wearing Doc Martens because she’s so predictable and gay. And these big tall theater kids really like to rub it in your face, that they’re tall.
She wears a tight black shirt and Hillary Clinton business-pants and a dog-chain around her neck and her hair is cut to lesbian length. Great. Her brows are bleached, recently, and I pretend not to notice. A tiny little nose ring…
But her body makes up for it all.
She asks just about nothing of my life, because she has no idea I’m an internet supervillain. So, to her, I have no Status. Without status you are nothing but a worm to these girls.
She goes “ope… uhhh” automatically, whenever I say something off-script.
I can actually hear and feel myself losing Good Guy points in her mind, when she asks if I “like cow milk” and I say “yeah sure, whole milk is fine, I drink all the milks—”
(no… wrong… you’re supposed to say that “cow milk is DISGUSTING and low key unethical… but I LOVE oat milk. Oat Milk is FIRE”)
We walk and we talk, she has no idea what she wants, besides the fact that she DOESN’T want kids. She HATES kids. Too much work. She just wants to travel and vibe instead.
She was just backpacking through Europe, aimlessly, now she’s staying with her friend here in Maine, aimlessly, soon she’s going to Grad School, aimlessly, because one Professor told her she was “Doing really good” yes, go on and spend $30k for a post-grad degree in Psychology… actually it might be half that cost, ‘cause it’s Canada. Yeah she’s Canadian. Toronto, actually.
She tells me I should check out Montreal next, and I agree.
She asks just about nothing of my own epic Greek tragedy of a life so I just don’t tell her. She wouldn’t be impressed anyway, she doesn’t read. Anything. Ever. Words are all just schoolwork to her. She doesn’t have the attention span for movies, even. She just has instagram, TikTok, and Severance.
We talk about places and she seems to equate Gay with the Good. She asks me if I’m Gay at all and I deliver an answer far too nuanced for her to grasp. I could have just said “no” like a cave man but instead I explained that I think being gay is a choice and I make the choice not to go down that road. I forget that the internet siloes you into an intellectual caste now and if you’re on the pictures-and-videos side of things you’re not hearing ideas like this very often. She cannot accept this hypothesis, or my assertion that “ADHD is a marketing campaign,” she’s never heard these things before and so she files me into the “bigot” section of her tiny Canadian brain.
She’s 22 and lived in Toronto with her parents her whole life but their relationship was fraught, unsurprisingly, they have just about no connection any more, probably because they lost her to the cult of homosexuality.
I ask her does she mostly get with girls or guys, she says guys. But she doesn’t really “like” sex. Have you ever had good sex? She hesitates and tries to say yes but I can see in her eyes that she has not. Maybe that’s because all the men you let into your life are gay and bereft of passion, or maybe you’ve just never run into a guy like me who’s really eager to fuck the living shit out of a Butterface like you.
She’s kind of fat but I’m so horny it hurts. When she lays on her back on this big grassy hill and her breasts are splayed out before me I bite my lip and feel a little rustling in my trousers. At one point I reach behind her, under her shirt, unhooking her bra with one hand, to demonstrate what a badass pussy-fucker I am.
She keeps texting her friend, who may/may not be working late, I don’t care, I’m getting tired of this girl, but I’m touching her more than ever, fingers behind her ear and on her neck and gripping on her thigh and she even reciprocates a little, unenthusiastically,
I don’t really have a plan here but I am possessed by this ambient erection, maybe the temperature will cool down, maybe she’ll get drunk at gay trivia night and loosen up enough to let me have an orgasm inside her big perfect body, it can be hard to tell if girls are ‘holding it in’ cause they’re shy or resisting or because they genuinely dislike you.
For 10 minutes we laid in silence, watching the little white kids of Maine play with their Patagonia Parents, who seem to average ~age 30, they’re all starting to make me feel pretty stupid as I round the corner on the second half of my twenties.
Kimi says she doesn’t want kids, ever, too much work. She has no idea that the work is the point. She’ll come to her senses at age 29 but by then it will be too late, she just doesn’t have it, facially…
Whatever, I’m hungry, so I say hey I’m gonna go down and get some food, you wanna stay here with my bag? She says sure.
I kiss her on the cheek cause it feels good. I’m learning that most girls get the ick when I do this. They would rather be raped and killed. There is no love in this world for a sensitive young man like me.
I walk down the hill to the expensive food trucks and buy a $12 falafel. The girl who takes my money is late teens early twenties perfect little blonde with a sun-kissed face full of freckles and I wished she were my date instead. These types must just get hit-on 24/7, I think to myself, bitterly, waiting for my foodslop.
It takes a while, Kimi up on the hill must be getting impatient by now.
Finally I get the food and as I’m walking back up the hill I think: I would not mind one bit if this girl was just not there any more.
And what do you know, she was gone. She left. My bag was sitting there alone, with six $50 bills sitting inside.1
I smiled, glad she left. Guess I’m going to gay trivia night alone.
But all that was not what got me banned from Hinge.
What got me banned, probably, was this:
See, I had told her the name of the book was “Worst Boyfriend Ever,” but I assumed she was too much of a narcissist to actually look it up. I was wrong. She probably did that as soon as I went down for the Falafel, actually.
It’s for the best that I am banned from Hinge. I don’t belong in the Dating pool, or in Society at all. I will reflect on my actions and become a better man.
all my current money
Nigga you didn’t have to do any of that. Back up your phone, factory reset it, reset your IP and get a new number. Why would you buy a new phone? I’ve been banned from Hinge and Raya like 6x and I just do this
“it can be hard to tell if girls are ‘holding it in’ cause they’re shy or resisting or because they genuinely dislike you.”
Work on this. You need to know the difference (for their sake and yours).