I ordered a Trim Flat White and sat down on a wriggly chair, at a chipped wriggly table outside Shot Shack whilst I mourned my 17 year old self.When Date #18 finally showed up around seven to eight minutes after me, he sort of gestured to the Barista to demonstrate that he wanted his usual, before asking me if I wanted anything.Yet it still felt as though the age gap wasn’t a deal-breaking barrier.
I went for tight jeans and a puffer jacket to pretend like it was made to look as though I had a cute face, chubby waist, thick legs, in shape.
I’m not usually one to get insecure but for someone who puts a lot of effort into their figure made me realize why I’m in preference of the Dad-bod.
Who’s to stand in the way of potential true love with someone who is guaranteed to spend at least two hours a day leaving you alone honing his hot bod?
Initial contact pleasantly surprised me, as Date #18 didn’t succumb to this horrible stereotype that I unfortunately was beginning to create in my head that built guys would have personalities like Johnny Bravo.
With that a very real fear in the back of my mind (I’m pretty sure that most girls fear they’ll end up with a guy exactly like her Dad) I decided to broaden my horizons.
This wasn’t a token effort, despite my relatively relaxed attitude and low standards for Tinder prospects.
So basically, he was still similar to my Dad, with the exception of the whole six-pack thing.
I’m not sure whether I was attracted to the idea of going out with a body builder, but I definitely had a crush on Johnny Bravo growing up and I was open minded to someone having a rock-hard version of a Dad-Bod.
I was running slightly late because of my slight outfit insecurity and ended up being at Memphis Belle before Date #18.