Creative Writing Local

Tinder Chronicles Part 4: Rapid Ruby

Words By: Beth Commons

This was a guy who already had me convinced he was crazy. He’d sent me a text message after a series of sexts that detailed how he’d just gotten back together with his girlfriend and how “he couldn’t do this” and all of that sort of fuckery. I texted back with a “that’s cool dude best of luck” and then he thanked me for understanding etc etc. Then texted me again seven hours later asking me if he’d missed out on something good with me. This on and off again texting went on for about a week before I decided that I wanted to bone this dude and get it over with. My logic was: after he’s boned me, he’ll leave me alone. Especially if I make it an extra tedious task.

We met at a bar that was closed. He offered me a smoke. I accepted. He gave me a squeeze. He spoke about himself a lot. He told me that his parents had called the cops on him the other day and the cops tasered him. He assaulted one and then ended up in ‘lock up’ overnight BUT he got a croissant for breakfast so it wasn’t all terrible. A croissant but no coffee.

We walked to kings park and up a hill that I found extremely, extremely hard to walk up. I suppressed my intense desire to puff and pant and kept my composure, occasionally letting out a comical heave. We got to the top of the hill, sat on a bench and then macked on each other. Classic bench in family park problem – we needed to find somewhere more private.

We walked through thickets of bush and I scratched my legs badly. We then had sex in the bush. Right next to a road, not nearly deep enough for it to be acceptable. Afterwards, he offered me a cigarette and we sat amongst the tall grass and branches not really talking, occasionally he would guffaw about how ‘that’s something to tick off the bucket list’.

He asked me if I wanted to go to the pub with him and I hesitantly accepted.

We sat amongst suited men and well dressed ladies. I was covered in dirt and scratches, smelling of sex.  He had red lipstick smeared on the right hand corner of his mouth. He spoke about how he watched a well known politician smoke meth before and I politely laughed and impolitely stared off into the distance.

We hopped on a bus and I got off two stops before him. I lied and told him it was nice to meet him.