At the shallow end of the gene pool.
[TorontoLife] My name is Diana. I’m a 27 year-old bartender. I met this guy on Tinder about two months ago, a few days after I’d moved from Toronto to San Diego. We’d been chatting for all of a day, and we agreed to meet at a bar in downtown San Diego. We were just going to play Big Buck Hunter and have some drinks. It was very short notice. We didn’t even exchange phone numbers.
He showed up at the bar, and he was super handsome. Like, really tall—six-foot-four or something absurd. We were wearing matching leather jackets. His Triumph Bonneville was parked outside. This guy looked badass.
So we had a couple of drinks, and played a bit of Buck Hunter. A couple things came up as we were getting to know each other. I was probing a bit because I knew he was from Texas, and I wanted to find out if he was a Republican, or a bad person. (Not that the two are necessarily one and the same.) It turned out he was pro-choice and an atheist, which was good. We disagreed on gun control, because he’d served in the Marines. San Diego is a big military town, so there are a lot of those types of people around.
Doesn't matter in California about guns. Neither you nor he can own a decent rifle because of the laws there.
But the night progressed. We went out to some other bars, had some more drinks, and he invited me back to his place. I was super excited, because I was really into this guy. We hooked up, and it was incredible. There was a lot face-touching and intense eye contact. He was cool as hell. I was completely smitten.
Back in my day, we used to call that bar hopping.
At some point I got up and sauntered over to his bookcase, because I wanted to see what he was into. I saw a few photos, and then a David Sedaris book that I love. I asked him about the Sedaris book and he said he hadn’t read it yet. But then, right beside it, I saw a book about Donald Trump. It wasn’t The Art of the Deal or one of his how-to-succeed-in-business books. It was In Trump We Trust, by Ann Coulter. So I asked him about it. I was like, “Ha ha, this is funny.”
Shoulda given him credit for even being a reader.
And he responded, “Well, actually the guy raises some valid points. Mexicans are taking our jobs.”
Meanwhile I’m a Canadian expat who just moved to America. I pointed that out and he went, “No, no. It’s different.” Why? Because I’m white and in my twenties?
No, coz he just finished nailing you to the floor. Duh.
| Also, you came over legally, with a visa and everything. You did come over legally, right? Because otherwise this little essay will be evidence when the Trump version of ICE starts asking uncomfortable questions. |
| Come now, Canadians are the most law-abiding people on the planet. They can't help themselves... |
He started talking disparagingly about Black Lives Matter. This entire conversation happened in five minutes, while I was frantically getting dressed to leave. I wasn’t there to argue, and I felt deeply uncomfortable.
If you were a different person you would have felt "deeply uncomfortable" the moment you accepted his invite to his place.
| This is why we don't sleep with people on the first date, my dear Canadian essayist, but wait until we know them well enough to be sure we like them. I suspect, however, your Texan is more likely to learn that lesson. |
I got a Lyft home and I thought I was done with him. The next day he messaged me on Tinder. He said, “Hope you’re still not upset over politics LOL.” I explained that it’s hard for me to remain attracted to someone whose views are so different from mine, and who believes in bigotry and xenophobia—which sucked, because the sex was amazing.
Then he said, “Not accepting other people’s beliefs is the definition of bigotry.”
So apparently it was my fault.
| Yes. Though the word you want is actually. |
He sent me a “hey” message a week later, which I never replied to.
I couldn’t do it again. It feels taboo to sleep with a Trump supporter. But here’s the thing: I’ve slept with a lot of people in my life. This guy ranked in the top five. I thought maybe I’d try him again one night at 3 a.m., when I was drunk enough to overlook his political views. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
| And thank goodness for that. Listen to her reducing him to a s3xual object. |
I don’t want to wake up next to a guy who blames Mexicans for his woes and thinks “bigly” is a word, no matter how handsome he is.
| I can only hope that "Tex" reads this, if only to know that he dodged a bullet... |
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