"The sea hath fish for every man"

                                 - William Canden 

I use to crash my roommates Tinder date at least once a week. I’m not sure why I started to do it, probably because I wasn’t having much luck on Tinder myself and was fed up with the process. Similar to most peer to peer interaction that happens on the internet, the dating app was no more than a relentless monotiny of always having to ask yourself, “I wonder if everyone likes me?” I guess the real reason I started crashing these Tinder dates (besides making my friend laugh and look like an idiot) was to see if anyone really likes anyone anymore.

The first step was to gain trust. I would ask about the Tinder app with something like “Hey do you do this Tinder thing? Pretty cool/dumb right?” This was the opening to a dialogue that soon developed into a long list of conversations that would revolve around thumbs up or down, left or right on the swipe.

The first Tinder date I interrupted I wanted my friend to know I was there. So he told me where he was planning on meeting the girl and I simply replied, “Oh I’ve heard of that place, heard it was good. What time are you going?”  Once I received the tentative date and time the plan was in motion.

I let my friend get a head start, visiting with his online companion for at least twenty minutes to get comfortable before I would strike. I wondered through the neighborhood, grabbing a few beers in the bar next to the bar where he was sitting with his date. After the twenty minutes had passed, I headed over.

The bar was very big and mostly empty, with a huge wooden bar with many empty seats. I walked over and sat down at the bar with four seats in-between myself and my unsuspecting roommate. At first he didn’t notice me, I ordered my drink and stared at the back wall of liquor, intensely listening to what semi-inflated facts about each other that flew back and forth between my friend and his date.

I ordered my second drink and after I was done vocalizing the order I turned to see my roommate meeting my eyes. I guess he recognized my voice. The only way I can describe the look on his face is first confusion and then holding back a smile like someone told you something horrific but funny (my uncle’s in the hospital because he fell off his electric scooter), or like receiving an award in grade school and trying to act like you’re not totally stoked to get it. Either way he knew exactly what I was doing.

He turned to his date who was looking at me also for a moment and then they went back to their conversation. The remainder of the time we were at the bar there was a fantastic array of his back to me with his head down when she was talking, rubbing the back of his head, and also looking over the shoulder every once in awhile to smile at me as if to say with his eyes, “Fuck you buddy."

Towards the end of the meeting the girl went into a little rant about her school and the phrase, “ . . . yeah I’m like an artist” slipped out of her mouth. I immediatlely spit the sip of beer back into the pint glass I was drinking out of, as I was not able to suppress laughing. The drink shot up on my glasses and face. I thought I was busted for sure.

My roommate looked at me and smiled and the girl looked confusingly over at me as well. Then my roommate got the bartender’s attention, “Hey get that guy a shot on me, you look like a buddy of mine!”. I got a shot of whiskey as did they and we all raised our glasses together. A few moments later the bartender came back by and said, “Wow, I guess it pays to look like someone”. That’s when I informed him that I was actually the guy's roommate and this was a Tinder crash, in which he replied, “That’s amazing." There would be no more money exchanged for drinks and shots that evening, from that point on they were all on the house.