A 30-year-old lawyer flexing his muscles on the beach — swipe left. A photographer looking for his next muse — swipe right.
But then he inquired about what I meant when I described myself as a “global citizen” in my bio. A Robert Pattinson look-alike, Logan was a 28-year-old Brentwood native who was working on his Ph D in physics. And the margaritas could have led to bad decisions, so I called it a night.There was something captivating about the dynamic that forms when you share someone in a sexual way.I was afraid of the guilt and self-judgment that might follow after, but those emotions never arrived.I told him that I felt more connected to being a citizen of the world than being a citizen of the United States. He skipped the small talk and proposed dinner right away, clarifying that it was “his treat, yo.” What a gentleman. He said he wasn’t that hungry and that he would pick at whatever I ordered, which ended up being tacos and nachos — very un-LA of me. We talked about yoga, his academic pursuits and my thoughts on LA vs. After we finished our margaritas and tacos, he asked if I wanted to go for a walk on the beach and smoke a spliff. All these wholesome dates never could have prepared me for my final one, though.Nicolas, a Spanish entrepreneur, tried to court me with an emoji riddle: a unicorn, a party popper and a panda.Likewise, I’m also shocked at how direct they are in their “about me” bios. “If you wear pounds of makeup and plan on getting your tits done this year, swipe left.”You don’t see that kind of language in San Francisco, but I’m no longer playing dating roulette in my beloved foggy home. I’ve lived in San Francisco for three and a half years.