TL;DR: Tinder date ambushed me in the bathroom and had never seen an uncircumcised penis before, screamed, and the cops were called.
Happened 30 minutes ago. So very much today.
This has been a rough stretch for my love life. This year I said good bye to someone I thought I was going to marry that I was with for 6 years. Immediately after, I found out my mom was categorized as "high risk" so I had to move back home to take care of her. I'm turning 35 next month, going blind, and I mean, I'm an okay looking dude, but I started quarantine maybe a solid 6, but definitely due to depression and the availability and ease of cake and pizza I'm down to a 4.
I'm on all the apps and sites. I try to be funny but frankly, I'm depressed as shit and suicidal most days, but thankfully my anxiety is so bad that I probably won't ever do anything about it. So thanks brain, I guess. And this is how it's gone:
Tinder: lots of matches, almost entirely bots and people trying to get me to buy their onlyfans. I've met a few really nice girls but they ended up "just wanting to chat," which is fair and I'm happy to have company, but I'm also out to date.
Bumble: A few matches, but none went anywhere. Lots of tumblr witches.
Hinge, OKCupid, Plenty of Fish: Lots of married women. No thanks.
At this point, it's been two years since I've had sex, I haven't seen a boob this year, and I've never been blown. I even looked into an escort with disastrous results, the sharing of which still gets me called a simp every few days. Fair enough.
So yeah, I'm willing to overlook a few red flags if it means I get a little attention. Enter my newest Tinder match. We'll call her Shawna since she looked like one I knew in high school and that isn't even close to her name.
Inspired by something I saw on I think mademesmile about a dude showing a girl his Gundam collection, her profile was about how much she loves comics. Well, I do too, so I offered to show her my Bane collection! And it worked! The conversations were great, they weren't one sided, and she was actually attracted to me. Which, wow. Okay, didn't see that coming. However, there were a few red flags. Most of her anecdotes that she offered for no reason were about how every guy she ever dated went crazy after knowing her, starting at age 7 (she's 29 now). Which, okay. We all think our exes are crazy, right? I mean I don't. I can't name many people that do. But okay, some do! But then one night I'm greeted with "Last night you stopped talking to me at 11. Usually, it's closer to 11:10. Do you find me boring? Am I not interesting enough for you? Are you the type of guy that needs to talk to a hundred different women? :( :( :( :( :(" Uh. Well, I'm a creature of habit because I'm an insomniac, so I try to get ready for bed at the same time and wake up at the same time every day in an effort to not make my sleep schedule donkey punch my depression even worse than it already does. Needless to say, I'm a little squicked, but at this point... it's a very attractive woman who says she wants to meet up and has advised me to bring condoms, I'm going to ignore enough red flags to power a communist navy.
She wants to meet at my place, which I told her no, she knows I take care of my mom and even though we're in different parts of the house, "Hey ma, this is Shawna from tinder, I'm going to break a dry spell in the other room. See you in about 3 seconds" isn't great. Plus I'd rather meet a new person in public, such that it is, and though our options are limited, I've got a park up the street and we can get food delivered. She agreed to the compromise... and in person she was absolutely great. Mostly. She was funny, she found me funny. We walked in the park and just talked about life for hours. A few of the flags were coming back--most notably that her go to "I'm out of things to talk about" filler was how badly her exes still want to fuck her and some she would consider, but she's afraid they'd steal her dog. Direct quote. But you know, otherwise she's really nice and she keeps feeling up my leg, and I find my leg gross. So my penis is now firmly in control of the decision making process.
Then, providence. Something I didn't think would be a factor at age 34. But fine, it is. My mom, a shut-in who hates everyone, who is vulnerable and never wants to leave the house, decided to go to someone within her work bubble's house. I quickly invite Shawna over, she quickly accepts. One of the cats likes her, one hisses. She sits down on the couch and puts on The Mandalorian, which... alright, I was hoping this is the lay, not the way, but good choice. I excuse myself to the bathroom because now that I'm close to a familiar bathroom, my god do I have to pee.
And here's where it starts to fall apart.
So, I'm not circumcised. When I pee, especially if someone is going to be interacting with my penis soon, I take a little extra time to wash it off with some warm water, a baby wipe or something. So far okay.
But I fucked up in two places.
First, I'm wearing tan pants. I hate tan pants. I'm always paranoid that I'll look like I pissed myself, so I always take just a minute longer to make sure everything is very dry before it gets put away.
Second, I didn't lock the door. Normally, this is a big "WHY DIDN'T YOU LOCK THE DOOR" and yeah, in the future I will, but with the layout of my house, there's a front bathroom and a back bathroom. The front bathroom is right by the living room, the back bathroom is down the hall, through the master bedroom, and tucked away. I used the back bathroom because I am the type of guy that doesn't want to risk bathroom sounds on a first date. So I figured I didn't need to lock it because she'd have to cross the house to come get me and I'd only be 2 minutes.
I finish up peeing and head to the sink. The second I'm done, I get rock hard. I have no idea how or why, it just happened. I haven't had a woman pay attention to me like this in forever and no matter what I do, I can't calm down. I did the "flex your thigh trick." Nothing. I thought of sad things, I thought of gross things. Nothing. So I just rolled with it, got to washing, started drying, and I heard my bedroom door open. I knew the bathroom wasn't locked, so I quickly try to put it away but my tan pants are also fairly tight, so at this point, the best I can do is turn a bit and try to hide myself while I calm down enough to put it away.
Shawna opens the door. "You've been gone FOREVER. What are you doing?"
"I'm just cleaning up. I'll be right out. Just need a couple of seconds."
"No, you invited me back here, I'm watching a dumb fucking TV show and you're in the bathroom for half an hour (it had legitimately been two minutes or less) and now you've got your back to me like some kind of a weirdo. What are you doing?" She crosses the room and turns me around and yep. Still rock hard. Now I figure I can own it, I can say nothing, I can apologize, or--
She begins to scream.
I'm now trying to turn away from her and put it away as quickly as I can, but she's holding me still and just staring at it like some sort of lab specimen. Thankfully, this is helping my boner go away.
She screams more.
"I don't know what you want! What can I do?"
"What the FUCK is wrong with your dick?"
"Are you inbred or something? What the fuck?"
No more help needed, I gently start to zip up, but she grabbed it, looked at it, and screamed again. And I mean... bloody murder scream. "Have... have you not seen an uncircumcised dick? This is what dicks look like with foreskin."
"It's not natural! You're a fucking freak!"
I started to talk about it technically being natural, but she sprinted out of my house.
Not the end. My neighbors are all quiet and heard a woman scream five times. The police got called and came right out to my apartment. I told them what happened, they didn't really believe me and spent about an hour, hour and a half going room to room, looking for any sign of anything gone wrong. By the time they were done, they were all laughing about taking a statement about an uncircumcised dick scaring someone, advised me to write this down somewhere in case she wants to say I exposed myself to her (I have my doubts since we appear to have blocked each other on everything) and I'm here feeling just as depressed as I started only also feeling gross. Yay!
The battle of the aged was...sort of OK? Not a bad scrap really.
Scorecards had it a draw, somehow.
I think this was the big eye-opener for me; the first of many events that showed me the subtle sexism rampant in the world.
I was chatting with friends while my mom was in the kitchen when the "where does she work?" question came up. When I responded and the followup was "is she a doctor?", I distinctly remember my mom setting down what she was working on, looking my friend directly in the eye, and saying "thank you" to her in an utterly serious and sincere tone. I was confused as to why until I asked her about it that evening. It had never occurred to me that time and time again, people just assumed that she wasn't a doctor.
For reference, she wasn't a nurse or a doctor, but the lead tech in the blood lab. Obviously we'd never expect someone to randomly guess that, but the fact that it took over 20 years for someone to guess doctor instead of nurse was, in hindsight, tremendously depressing.
I've unfortunately lost contact with the friend who asked this, but if you happen to be reading this...thank you. That one simple question had an impact more profound on me than you intended, I'm sure, and it certainly made my mom's day.
(And I want to be very clear here: I have tremendous respect for nurses. I could never do their job, and in the times I've needed their services in emergency situations I have been beyond grateful for their skills and talents. My point is simply that doctors have [generally] spent more time in formal education and are placed on a pedestal in terms of medical jobs, and no one had ever made the assumption that my mom might be a doctor instead of a nurse.)
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