You should know by now that I am not afraid of conflict, and I would much rather know too much than too little. Whether through guilt or relief, they always reply back.

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How old am I: I am 35

Tint of my eyes: I’ve got soft gray-green eyes but I use colored contact lenses

Figure features: My body features is chubby

I like to drink: Brandy

What is my hobbies: Looking after pets

Smoker: Yes

A roadie is up a ladder, rigging up a final light. A couple of others wheel around gear boxes, unrolling cords as they go. Suddenly the guy up the ladder swears — a cluster of old confetti has been let loose from within the light, showering the tech and drifting slowly down onto the empty stage. Max stations himself behind the keys and tests out a bright synth sound, while Lizzy sits on the drum kit, warming up.

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Are You My Queen??


We talked for a little bit about how difficult it can be meeting new people in this city, and I got the sense that he was another self-described lonely dude. I shut it down pretty quickly, but my swiping finger got itchy…. I made him call me Ms. I ran my fingernails so hard down his back he had raised marks the next day. Monogamy right off the bat is an expectation in his world.

Groups ranging in age from 21 to 45 or groups with one member who is kilometers away. An ex of mine used to tell me that reminded him of a white Donald Glover. I sent him a snapchat of my outfit, but was not going to try to convince him. That said, I think the presumption of monogamy is silly in the early stages of a relationship, particularly if the two of you like dear BTSK and the West-End Snob met on an online dating app. I quickly asked Harold for some quick facts about his handegg team, and briefly talked out of my element about a recently injured quarterback.

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The second date is less great. I was unprepared and out of domme practice, but we immediately made plans to meet up again the next night after the conference. I shared the profile again with Harold and we laughed. The conversation moved quickly. It started feeling really sad, and Harold was taking entirely too much joy in the thought of his primary partner burrito booty-calling a man who could easily have squatted two of us on each shoulder.

Would this be worth it just to tell the story?

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For safety reasons. Date everyone once. I quickly ran through every possible scenario. One even deletes the app off of their phone. I was picky as heck. As I sat on a plush blue couch in a humid apartment in Midtown on a Tuesday night, I purposely put a partner of mine on the defensive. This guy was as deep-bench as it gets. I had my Tinder app powered up, swiping right and left based on whatever nonsense criteria were important to me at the time.

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I freaked out, showed Harold and took a screen shot. Return to the blue couch on a Tuesday; he is talking to me about a few dates he has lined up. Though both of them have several cool matches worth getting to know, this one seems special. Why anyone would pretend to be this guy over the other more recognizable players is beyond me, but I wanted to make sure he was who he said he was. And it kind of was? What if shit just gets weird?

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Everyone has those one-month flings that just fizzle out. At the time, I was living with Harold, and we were doing the typical things that couples do during the slow death of an unhealthy non-monogamous relationship. I made him praise my body, which had only been touched reluctantly for the past year, and not at all in I made him beg me to touch him.

I had no idea what to say to this NBA player. Learning that is human with flaws and insecurities and a guilty conscience made me more comfortable with him. I think he liked being with me because I know how hard he works to not be the person he was back then.

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Something about his huge brown eyes and stubble were extremely compelling for me. I was in a stage where I wanted to do exactly the opposite of what Harold wanted. I wished him all the luck and more playing time. The last message I ever sent him was when he moved to a different team.

I used him in a way that facilitated three orgasms for me. One of my favourite Tinder stories to tell involves my only famous match: A since-traded player on my local NBA team. I was feeling it hard. Reactivate OKC or Tinder and explain to other matches that they were less compelling than another match? I believe he is now married and according to all of the groupie forums yes, those exist and they are a cesspool for self-hating women they are very happy.

The conversation is amazing and both are attracted to each other based on the pictures. He told me he does not expect me to ever come visit him.

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Any guilt I felt about bringing a person back to the white box I tried to make a home quickly dissipated when Rocky confessed that he has submissive tendencies. I have a weird expectation for myself that I say what I mean and mean what I say. I was only a little bummed. The third date goes better. Like, twitter followers at the time we matched. Is that enough of a faux pas to undo the fun of the first date? He never replied. I washed some of my favourite toys, put on my boots and strappiest Agent Provocateur set and lounged around the condo feeling very glamourous and powerful.

I asked if he wanted to change the plan to grabbing burritos. We almost immediately went for the fucked-up family TMI stories, and he shared stories of working up in northern BC where he lives. I was a little peeved at the time, so I asked a few girlfriends if I could send them the picture too, and their praise and affirmation was more important than his would have been.

What if I go over with burritos and things start happening and I freak out? I am so torn about super-likes. He seemed respectful at least of my basic boundaries, though in our second conversation he called back to the possibility of toasted Mexican goodness.

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I swiped right. Am I going to be assaulted? He is, above all else, a completely solid friend and a dude whom I am lucky to have in my life. The first date goes swimmingly, and ends with a kiss. My friend Anastasia suggested we try Tinder Social with a friend of hers, which sounds awful, but I am a glutton for punishment inasmuch as someone with my domme tendencies can be.

Almost immediately after that, he started posting pictures on his instagram of a gorgeous woman using the hashtags solemate SIC and onewomanman. Should they have to restart from the beginning?

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The next night, Harold and I were back at it, pretending to be okay with spending time hanging out around each other. So I swiped for myself. Not even glamourous.

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Like, having him on top of you? I was swiping my life away when another NBA player popped up. And if it ends, I want him to take me climbing again. Prepared for the worst, I confessed via text that I had just been through a rough breakup so this could be weird. And that was when something clicked for me: Is something worth doing only for the story? We arranged to grab a beer on Tuesday night, at a dark little pub walking distance from condo I shared with Eleven a fortnight ago. It gets rid of the Grass Is Always Greener mentality that is so prevalent in the early stages of monogamy.

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Someone shows up late or reveals a weird opinion on Israel or makes a joke in bad taste about a cause important to the other. Then Rocky super-liked me. It was more applicable then, when I was looking to be in a relationship with him; when I thought everything he did was art. A flurry of coincidences will one day make my life interesting. I am excited to spend time with He passed the Fuck Yes!

This is more like it. I thought it would be too soon to meet up with someone from Tinder. That makes me nervous and a little guilty, because I made out with seven people at my birthday party alone. I screencapped and swiped right. He can do better. I invited him to watch a hockey game with me at a very public bar downtown — walking distance from the condos the one year contract players lease near the arena.

After two hours, I invited him back to the condo. He did not. This guy, though?

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