The Creator of Mansplaining.

I matched with this guy on Tinder and we seemed to hit it off right away. We were joking and just clicked. He invited me over. We made plans for Sunday but decided to move it to Saturday night. This worked for me, as I had a solid excuse to not stay the night, but if it went well, we could set something up for the next day. But at the same time, I set up a group chat with two of my friends in case I needed an emergency exit. Cuz you never know.

I show up at his place and immediately had all of the regrets. He had been much cuter on his profile. He looked like he was 15 years older than her actually was. It was like he had been born looking like a 45 years old, he just hadn’t got there yet age-wise. He was the same height as me, which is not usually an issue for me. But in heels, I was taller. And that bugged me for some reason.

He invited me in and got me a beer while I settled in on the couch. He kissed me, and it was fine. I could tell he was nervous and he told me so. Repeatedly. I said I was too, not to worry.

And then he started to talk…

He had injured himself six years previously and said that he hadn’t worked out since then. He just stretches. He is absolutely certain that he is the only person in the entire world to have stretched out every muscle in his body.

What if… he could show me how to not change a single thing in my workout but it would show instant results. This lead into a detailed explanation about how the fitness industry is complete bs.

I have been following along with the social media fitness industry for years now. It is a flawed place, but there are some genuine people with real results. I have found some people that I truly trust their information and their products.

When this guy started saying how everybody wanted an Arnold Schwarzenegger physique but couldn’t actually do it, I really wanted to call bullshit on it. Because I’ve seen people do it. Over time, but it’s still possible.

He went on to tell me how he is going to write a book about how everyone else is wrong and this is the only way to train your body.

I felt a little bit attacked in this moment. I am quite sure he was not aware of the fact that women’s bodies do not work the same way as men’s do. We have a higher body fat percentage and hormones play a big factor on our weight.

I feel good about my body and how I look. It’s a constant work in progress and I really did not ask for his opinion. But he kept going on about how I could eat 3000 calories of McDonald’s and drink a lot of beer and still have a six pack. As if his goals were everybody’s goals. (And no, my body won’t do that. And I don’t want it to.)

This is besides the fact that he has a decent amount of muscle on him, and that means that he has to be working and building them somehow. Muscle just doesn’t magically appear because you will it to.

He asked what I did for a living and I told him that I worked at a beauty retailer. Damn, did he love that. He took this as an opportunity to tell me how self-absorbed the social media world was, and how my job was a shallow extension of that. I love my job and I am good at it, so I took offense to this, but I still kept quiet.

I had texted my friends at this point, telling them I might need them to call me any second. I had a migraine building behind my eye and I was actively willing it to get worse so I could leave.

At this point, I knew this would not go anywhere. I just wanted to see how much deeper he could dig himself.

He then asked if I was close to my parents and if I had siblings. Yes, I am close with my parents. I have a younger sister, no brothers, but a brother-in-law, a niece and nephew. This was the only personal information that I was asked to share.

He told me he was an only child and his mom was very overprotective and religious. But he did not believe in anything. Literally, NOTHING. Praying was stupid and pointless. He was raised Catholic and suddenly everything made sense.

Somehow, he mentioned that his dream job was to be a porn star.

Dead. Serious.

His mom would lose it if he told her, but his dad would drive him to shoots. His dad had always known his son would have a big “hammer”, and had even said so to a buddy, at the hospital, looking at his newborn son in the little hospital bed.

(He repeatedly referred to it as his “hammer” and it was all I could do to keep a straight face. Thank god for alcohol.)

At one point, he asked if I smoked weed and I said that I had just started. For me, it is a way to combat my insomnia and anxiety, focusing on the CBD percentage. But he did not ask about that. He just started to mansplain weed.

Weed is not a new thing to me. I’ve had friends that have smoked it for as long as I can remember and I’m not stupid. And with the release of tons of new cannabis and hemp beauty products, I have a basic knowledge of the differences between things.

But he kept talking about the different strands to get the highest THC level possible and all the hacks he had found to get the biggest high. He insists that he doesn’t smoke cigarettes, but he pulled one out, cut an inch off the tip of it, shoved that into the bowl of his bong and then packed weed around it, assuring me that this was the best way to do it. Because his buddy has been growing for 10 years now, and everyone in the city agrees that he has the best shit.

After that, he opened a little bag on the table, which he told me was tobacco leaves. He rolled a joint with it and started smoking. Except, it seemed like he mostly just watched it burn. He even wanted me to hold it so I could see how it burns up close. He kept asking if I wanted to try it, but I kept declining, as I did not know this guy or where his stuff is from or what is in it. He then threw out a comment about how when fall comes, he’s going to go outside, gather leaves and roll joints in them.

Mmmmkay.

He asked if I smoked cigarettes and I responded with my usual answer. I only smoke when I’m not allowed to punch people in the face. I really only rage smoke. Something to take the edge off because I am not allowed to drink at work.

This lead into a speech about how I should not let myself get stressed out at work. You can’t change people so don’t take it so seriously. Customer service is easy.

I kindly told him that that is not always the case. Personally, I thrive on a certain amount of stress. It’s how I get up in the morning and get myself to be productive. This is not the first time I’ve had a man tell me to calm down and not stress, and it is not something I let them get away with.

But also, don’t tell a woman to calm down. Y’all should know this by now.

Somehow this lead back into the conversation on how meaningless my job is. And society is so accepting now. All the LGBTQ+ (except he said it in a way where he just started saying the alphabet to make the point that he did not take it seriously) people in the world can come out now and be accepted and everyone will be fine with it. He knows this because his best friend is gay!

Mmmkayyyyyyy…

This lead into a 20 minute tirade on what a piece of shit his best friend’s boyfriend is.

He was flipping through his Netflix and started asking if I had seen a bunch of things. The answer is usually no. I have not seen anything. I’m aware that I’m terrible. It’s fine.

He asked if I had seen John Wick. I told him no, and I won’t. Because the dog dies. I can’t do anything where there is any harm to animals.

His response it that yea, he cried. It was really sad and terrible. But we can just fast-forward through it.

N.O.

If I hadn’t seen anything, how could I call myself a fangirl?

I had to explain that I was obsessively into certain fandoms and more of a casual observer of others. I did not need to be fanatic about everything at the same level.

Elsa and Mulan are not princesses and Hermione should have ended up with Draco. I will argue with you until the end of time about these things, because I am right. But I really do not have an opinion on anything Star Wars or DC related.

Did I play video games? No. I’d rather watch people play them and shit-talk. I should have just said I did that with my ex and play up the psycho ex-girlfriend role. But I vaguely said I did it with my friends. Somehow, he still took this as me saying I am a gamer.

He then showed me his mini Super Nintendo, still in the box, waiting for me to be impressed.

Honey, I dated a hardcore gamer for a long time. I know more about video games then you do and even more about the hardware. You gotta try a lot harder to impress me. I know enough that the games he was claiming as the be-all-end-all made him a basic bitch. Cuz I’ve dated those too.

We settled on Big Mouth. I hadn’t seen it but I heard it was good and he is obsessed with it.

Spoiler alert? Maybe?

We were in the middle of an episode and he starts describing another episode where they talk about periods. He told me how accurate it was. How women bloat and bleed, but cramps are no big deal. They exaggerate those.

You know how exactly???

There was a bowl of chips on the coffee table and he started eating them. Not offering me any, but it was fine. He started telling me how he was an amazing cook. So much so that Gordon Ramsay could suck his dick. He was going to make me the most amazing turkey bacon grilled cheese sandwich and it would make me orgasm in my mouth.

(I really should have said I was vegan, just to see his reaction.)

He had finished his chips and leaned over to kiss me again. His breath reeked like sour cream and onion (mostly onion), as he took his time breathing on my face. And licking my face.

He pulled back and started talking about other stuff he had watched on Netflix. He had recently watched the Ted Bundy tapes. That guy was inspiring!

Was I getting tired? I could go crawl into his bed if I wanted.

I said no, I have to go home tonight. My mom is picking me up really early for the gym tomorrow.

What gym? What kind of workouts do I do?

I said that I do classes, at these locations. Turns out he had worked at my gym years ago and knew one of the instructors that still teaches. He had hated that guy and his girlfriend (who also teaches there). He doesn’t like people and this instructor was really shady.

(He’s not. He’s great. Any time that I have been off, he has checked in on me. He’s amazing.)

At the end of the episode, I stood up to get my jacket on and head home. He stood up, asking if I was sure I hadn’t had too much to drink.

I had had two beers. Over the course of 4 hours. I know my tolerance well, and I would have walked home if I needed to. I assured him I was fine and thanked him for having me over. He walked me to the door and told me to text him the next day. He also thanked me for being a great listener, while he rambled on.

I tried to casually run to my car as fast as I could without making it obvious.