Chapter 5 #2
“Well, I’m not sure if it’ll work. But you could always go on Tinder and see if you find him on there. He either lives in Silver Lake or is staying here as a visitor. There’s a pretty good chance you could find him.”
She says it like it’s not a huge breakthrough for me.
I look at her in amazement, “Lana, you are a fucking genius! Fuck you for keeping this gem of an idea from me all day!”
“We didn’t get our phones back until now anyway, I didn’t want you to be all antsy,” she says.
She’s right; she’s a good friend.
“Ugh, I love you!”
I open up Tinder and pull up my profile.
I ignore the 180 unanswered messages I have and just go to settings.
There, I edit my profile so the first visible photo is one from my shoot with Lana, when I was wearing the green bikini.
If he’s on here and sees it, he’ll definitely swipe. Why wouldn’t he?
I also go ahead and buy the Tinder Gold subscription so I have a better chance of finding him.
Anything for my dream man. I’m desperate to find out what was under those thermals that he wore so well, because even though I only saw his mesmerizing eyes and sparkling smile, I just know he was a walking Calvin Klein ad.
I feel like Prince Charming from Cinderella, searching for the eyes that drew me in instantly. Only, he was looking for the perfect fit to a shoe.
Same thing.
I’ve never worked so hard to find a man in my life. I’ve never worked for a man, period. It’s funny, usually I’m running away from and avoiding them . What? Most guys don’t get the hint if I leave while they’re asleep and don’t leave my number.
There was this one time, I hooked up with a guy, Emmet or Evan or something, and he was a huge cuddler– I nearly gag at the memory.
So when I wake up the next morning, I was all trapped in his arms and legs.
I didn’t know what to do. So I started freaking out and moving him as hard as I could, pretending that I had to throw up and run to the bathroom.
So instead of going to his bathroom, I left the room running with only a sheet around me and made it all the way back to my dorm wearing that sheet.
Let’s just say my RA (Resident Assistant) was not happy with me, but at least I never had to see that guy again.
The tech finishes rubbing my feet and calves with lotion and proceeds to wrap my legs and feet with a moist warm towel. She moves on to drying my feet so she can start cutting the cuticles from my toes and I’m on my phone going complete stalker mode.
I make sure to be careful at the speed I’m swiping so I can get a good look at each guy. I’m only looking for blue-eyed men with a perfect smile.
“Wait,” Lana says. “What if he’s not on Tinder?”
“Babe, if he’s not on Tinder, do we assume he’s loyal or just really bad with technology?”
“Both sound hot to me,” she replies and I give her a wink in agreement.
My thumb swipes left eight times until I find someone with piercing blue eyes. His name is Jacob. He has pictures of him snowboarding and others with a cat. He looks like he could be the guy, so I go ahead and swipe right.
As I continue to swipe I keep getting notifications that I already matched with guys. But when I go further into their profile they all have a picture holding a fish. If I match with one more guy holding a fish, I’m starting a petition. There should be a background check for that. It’s weird.
I swipe left, swipe right—this is basically cardio. I’m burning emotional calories right now. Maybe I will forget about Mr. No-name in no-time. I swipe right on the blue-eyed men and left on everyone else.
All of a sudden, the perfect idea hits me!
“Hear me out—we throw a party tonight. Tiny. Exclusive. Sexy. Our Airbnb becomes the après-ski afterparty.” In case I can’t find my mystery man, the best way to get over him is to get under another one.
“Uhhh…won’t we get in trouble for that?” She asks.
Typical Lana.
“Not if the Airbnb hosts don’t find out!”
Lana looks at me with a weary look. She’s scared, I can tell. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but we should still have fun. When’s the next time we’ll get to come to Colorado again?
“Okay, we don’t have to invite hundreds of people. It can be a small get together,” I offer.
“Define small…”
“Less than twenty people?”
“Okay, I guess I can handle that,” she says.
“Perfect!” I say. On Tinder, I tap profile , then edit to change my bio.
My bio currently says: “I’m a handful, but that’s why you’ve got two hands.”
You wouldn’t believe the amount of guys that message, “I know where I’ll be putting my two hands.”
It kind of backfired on me, but I still think it's hot and funny, so I’ve kept it the same this entire time.
Still, I change it to: “party at my Airbnb. Show me a good time?”
That should reel in plenty of men. It’s simple, yet gives off the perfect vibe.
I start swiping again and find another blue-eyed man who looks familiar -his name is Everest. He looks really cute. He has blue eyes and a perfect smile, which meets my two requirements. So, I go ahead and swipe right. Once I do, a pop up says “It’s a match!”
Perfect! I tilt my phone screen to Lana so she can see it. She almost spits out her cocktail.
“Oh my god that was fast!” She says, mouth full of martini.
“I know, right? He’s cute!” I swipe through his pictures while still holding my phone out for her to see.
A notification pops up on the top of my screen. My eyes widen.
“It’s him!” I tell Lana.
“Open it!” She nearly shouts.
I open up the message.
Everest said, “Hey beautiful, send the addy.”
“Oh my god he wants the address!” I tell Lana, grabbing her arm and shaking it so hard that she spills the martini all over us.
“Oops, sorry!” I say through laughter.
I look at the girl clipping my toenails, “I’m so sorry, do you think you could grab us a towel?”
“Of course, Miss Brown!” She quickly stands and scurries away, probably to the back.
Lana grabs the phone from my hand and stares at the chat.
“What do I reply?” I ask, looking at her.
“Uhh, I don’t know. I’m not good at this stuff, you are!” She grabs the towel from the returned nail tech, “Thank you,” She says, wiping her arm then mine.
“Ahh! He sent another message! It says ‘I’ll show you a good time,’” Lana says, staring at the screen.
“Give me that!” I yank the phone from her hand.
I think I’m gonna play it cool and just send the address. I copy the address of the Airbnb from my email and paste it into the Tinder chat.
Once I show Lana and she nods to confirm, I hit send. I put my phone down and lean further back in my chair. I really hope Everest is my mystery man. He sure looks like him. Even his name sounds perfect.
“Sheesh, that was stressful,” I say, “now we’ve gotta find you a man.”
“Oh, no you don’t! This is about you, not me. I’ll be fine watching you talk to yours,” she says.
“Watching me talk to mine?” I laugh. What does that even mean? “Lana, relax. Once we get a couple drinks in you, you will be glad I found you one. Leave it to me, your best friend. Have I ever done you wrong?” I ask her with big, puppy-dog eyes.
“No, but…” She starts.
“But nothing! Now, what is your type? Should we keep looking at men with blue eyes or are you wanting someone with green or brown eyes?” I ask.
“Umm, I want someone with personality,” she says through laughter. She’s so innocent and wholesome.
“Lana, you don’t get personality with one-night stands, now pick your preferred eye color.”
Lana and I can barely breathe at this point. We are laughing so hard at ourselves and each other. I think the martinis are getting to us.
“Okay, then Italian!” Lana says, “with huge muscles!”
“That’s not an eye color!” I say through short breaths. This girl is killing me!
“I know, but that’s what I want. An Italian!”
“Bitch, then you need to go to Italy for that! But okay, let's see what we can find you.”
I don’t think we are going to find her an Italian man here in Colorado, but we can always be hopeful. At the very least, I can find her a hot snowboarder. If we find my mystery man, maybe he will have a friend or a brother for Lana.
I turn to Lana, “If Tinder gives us nothing, we’re storming the men’s sauna and saying we thought it was co-ed.”
Oops.