The Hinge Date From Hell

Dating in Denver is like hiking a 14er — you start with high hopes, question all your life choices halfway through, and sometimes, at the summit, you realize you should’ve stayed home.

Take, for example, the time I met Hinge guy at Avanti. His profile pics? Lies. His personality? A social experiment gone wrong. The red flags started waving immediately: He looked nothing like his pictures, rocked aggressively weird socks and smelled like he’d rolled around in an Abercrombie stockroom circa 2008.

Still, I stayed. Maybe he had a redeeming quality? Spoiler: He did not.

I mentioned my love for science (because, you know, I studied it), and he hit me with: “Yeah, I don’t believe in education. Science is boring.” Oh. Okay. Cool. Then he launched into a TED Talk (minus the intelligence) about all the drugs he’s done — like he was auditioning for Euphoria. Every time I mentioned something I liked, he either called it stupid or dismissed it entirely. Meanwhile, his interests were the most obscure, painfully uninteresting things imaginable. I wish I could remember them, but my brain clearly deleted them for my own safety.

Eventually, I made up an excuse, downed my drink and left. Lessons learned? Always Google first, trust your instincts and never ignore the warning signs of weird socks and Abercrombie fumes. But hey, at least Avanti’s tacos were good.