Tinder Stories – It Was Bound To Happen

When you have been in the game as long as I have.

Which is probably the wrong way to put it.

So lets rephrase and go with – when you have dated as MANY people as I have you are bound to have cross over.

Now let me take you back in time, yes all the way back to three years ago when I started dating.

Y’all remember the first ever blog post about Tinder I wrote? If you don’t and you are new here you gotta go and read this little beauty.

Yes, I did actually run away from a man who was naked.

So fast forward and I am back on the dating apps.

I was off them for some time but that story is for another day.

Swiping away I end up matching and chatting to a guy who we shall call Wyatt and he always put ‘x’s’ on the end of his messages.

Babe we barely know each other and my best friend doesn’t even get kisses on the end of messages unless I am being a sarcastic bitch.

So every single time I am reading Wyatt’s messages its coming across in a sarcastic tone.

Things I can overlook.

He asks me if we can move off this dating site and onto socials which is really where this story takes a turn.

I have a public profile because I promote the blog on it but Wyatt has a private Instagram.

He follows me and I have to follow request him, knowing full well he is deep in my archives.

Because he tells me my own statistics e.g how many posts I have.


Moving on.

We are messaging and setting up to meet in person for a drink.

He asks if Thursday next week works for me (keep in mind it is the Tuesday previous).

I agree and we keep talking about where we should go.

It was at this moment when he accepts my request and I go look at his profile.

Casually scrolling I see that its very curated.

These were definitely taking by women and the comments under his photos go to prove it.

Scrolling some more and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

God has chosen to smite me hasn’t he?

In a photo is Wyatt and Max.

You know Max, I ran away from.

When he was naked and I told him to leave the front door unlocked.

Keep scrolling.

Then another.

Then another one.

There are many.

They are like best friends or something.

Fuck. Me.


They have been to international destinations together.

Its best friend content.

So I am faced with the moral dilemma that this guy seems really lovely but is best friends with a man I ran away from and then blocked.

He’s best friends with a man who said “come here” to me like a fucking dog.

If you date someone you also date their friends and there would a horrible moment I was envisioning when I get introduced and Max and I lock eyes and we both know what happened.

That is some reality TV stuff right there.

And so I am left pondering if I tell Wyatt or not?

Then the weekend rolls around and he leaves me on seen.

Bad move.

Am I bothered?


In my personal experience do I think he has gotten cold feet and/or is a fuck boy?


Did he show my profile to Max and I shall forever be left of seen?

I don’t know but that is the conclusion I come to and move on with my life.

Wyatt comes back to me late Monday evening to which his response was that he was busy with a weekend and was hungover.

If I am hungover I am clutching my phone because it is my life line to uber eats and my friends telling me that we will not die like this.

Do I accept his excuse for leaving me on seen?


He asks me if we are still up for drinks on Thursday.

“I actually thought you dropped off the face of the earth so I am catching up with a friend on Thursday but what other day would work for you?”

“wait … I thought we said Thursday”

“I can no longer do Thursday, how does Wednesday work for you?”

Was it a sly move on my behalf?


Do I give a damn?

Na, not really. Wyatt is just a name on a screen at this point.

Also he knows Max so I am kinda hoping this thing dies before drinks.

We decide Wednesday at a basic ass bar and the conversation continues.

He then tells me it was his birthday and well he went to HQ for drinks with his friends.

Now listen when I say this but a mans watering hole tells you everything you need to know about him.


I didn’t stutter.

For those of you who live outside of an informed bubble in Auckland or just don’t live in the city of sails let me link you in.

The owner of HQ is a cunt.

Just google him and inlighten yourself that truely terrible people out there still exist.

So we don’t go there. Its cancelled.

Now Wyatt is a basic male so he’s misinformed about many things in his life so I just mention that I am surprised that the bar is still open.

Such a shame that he is quickly taking himself out of the race.

Ah well.

We fast forward to Wednesday where I arrive first at the bar, begin reading the news and being unsurprised that a man is late to a time he suggested.

Wyatt turns up and we grab a drink.

Everything he is saying is going in one ear about out the other because I am too busy thinking about the fact that I ran away from Max two years prior.

Despite me not paying any attention we are the last ones in the bar and its going surprising well.

Wyatt can talk and I can nod.

I ask him if he wants to go to another bar since we are getting kicked out and don’t seem to be done talking.

Just a hop skip and a jump away is a classic cocktail bar which I love to go to.

We get situated and it dawns on me that I am still holding onto my secret.

Yup. Good. Great.


Wyatt gets back from the bathroom and we order a round of drinks.

I skipped to the bathroom and when I return things have clearly escalated because he’s now sitting very close to me.

So we are sitting there and then I realise I have never actually said happy birthday to Wyatt in person.

I lean forward put a hand on his knee and say “I forgot to tell you but Happy Birthday” and kiss him.


Asking about his weekend and how it was his birthday I enquire about the details.

He and his flatmates got very rowdy at home after town.

Wyatt tells me he lives with his best mates.

He then tells me more details about them.

Some of which I cannot share with you as they are identifying details.

Then it hit me.

All of it hit me.

Max is his flat mate.

Max is his best friend.

Ah yup this is a fuck up on my behalf.

Cocktails have arrived and Wyatt starts to ask questions about what I do in my spare time.

Like what do I get unto in my evenings.

“I write a blog.”

“A blog?”

“Yup, a blog about my life.”

“About your life, like what about your life?”

“I’ve written about the flat mates from hell season one and two and right now I am writing about my dating life.”

“your dating life?”


I have always been very upfront and honest when it comes to the blog and I will absolutely admit that on this one occasion I didn’t tell ALL of the truth straight away but give me a minute here.

Taking this moment I confess my sins.

Explaining how the blog started. That I went on this booty call with this guy and I turned up and his room was a mess and before we slept together I asked if he had a condom and he didn’t. So I told him that I had one in my handbag in my car and that I will go and grab it. Except I ran away from this guy as he lay there naked and never returned.

Wyatt laughed.

Then I took a deep breath.

“That guy and this story has led me to write about other dates which then got turned into a stage show, made the news and well entertain a few thousand people across the world.”

Wyatt laughed again and told me how wild this is to him.

And it is wild.

Its fucking wild.

I pop my hand on Wyatt’s knee again and say “Max, the guy who started all of this, you know him and I have been sitting here really enjoying our banter but you should know because you two are actually best friends and I would hate for you to find out any other way apart from me. I thought you might have read the blog but you haven’t. I would never expose anyones identity but you should know.”

And Wyatt took a couple of seconds before saying “I don’t sleep with people who have slept with my friends.”


Did you miss the key message when I said I went to go sleep with him but he didn’t have a condom so I ran away?

“oh um but we didn’t sleep together, he did’t have a condom just a gross bedroom”

“yeah he’s the messiest person in the flat”

Good to know old habits haven’t died.

“your flat mate really needs to work on how he talks to women just as a heads up. I doubt he told you about this incident but might be worth letting him know that his current strategy isn’t working.”

“so you didn’t sleep with him?”

“no, he booty called me, begged me to hurry up and when I graced him with 40 minutes he didn’t clean his room or have protection, so I left.”

“but you did everything else?”

“no because dudes these days don’t go out giving oral for some stupid reason.”

And honestly now that I cast my mind WAY back I am kinda glad it didn’t happen, there is only so far my acting skills can carry bad talent.

“yeah I don’t get with girls any of my mates have been with – morally.”

“fair call, like I said I wanted to be honest, he’s clearly a really good mate of yours and I would never want to jeopardise any of that.”

The conversation took a pause and I jumped to the bathroom.

I stood in that tiny cubical looking at myself in the mirror wondering if I had just cock blocked myself but I had done the right thing.

Sitting back down the waiter came over and asked us if we wanted another round.

Wyatt said yes.

Sorry, what.

If there was ever a time to call it a night because this isn’t going anywhere it would have been right then.

I am staring quite rudely at Wyatt because all bets were off and now they are back on again?

Men say women are hard to read you deal with a man who morally won’t sleep with you but wants your company.

Whilst we wait for drinks Wyatt clearly was thinking and asks if the website in my bio is blog.

Obviously he has seen it and so I asked him if he clicked it?

He tells me that he did but it was a lot of writing so he didn’t bother reading it.

No worries the blog isn’t for everyone. Clearly he is a picture book sort of guy.

We continue chatting about our lives and I am wondering why the hell I am still here. Don’t get me wrong, good chat but I am not out here to make friends.

Its now at that point in the night where you would think this story would be coming to an end, right?

God you guys should know by now but absolutely not.

Wyatt asks me where I live and I explain that I was house sitting this week. He offers to drive me home which to his credit after this evening is a nice gesture.

We get up to go and leave and I am not going to lie but I was feeling mega guilty, so I paid the bill.

As he is driving me back to where I was house sitting and its late. Easily close to midnight.

I don’t remember how the next bit went but Wyatt is parking and coming inside.

Which for a man who isn’t going to sleep with me seems like a lot of effort. I offer him a water and just go balls to the wall in being bold because ya gal is not sober.

“do you just want to stay?”

This version of Seren, she is unpredictable, there isn’t a filter on her and she seems to only come out when the moon is high in the sky.

Wyatt says yes and me, myself and I are rather shocked.

So one thing is leading to another.

What happened to Wyatt’s morals?

Was it my matching lingerie set or the fact that I spoke absolute rubbish on the way home?

Did he leave them in the bar?

We get to the grand moment.

And then I realise – I am not at my house.

I didn’t pack a bag with the expectations that I would be sleeping with someone.

So I ask Wyatt “do you have a condom?”

“um no, do you?”

“if I did, I wouldn’t be asking.”

“so you don’t have one?”

“no this isn’t my house”

“but you have birth control right?”

Get the fuck out of here.

Fuck right off.

“I am not sleeping with you without a condom.”

“I think I have one in my car”











So he gets out of bed, puts on clothes and shoes just like I did to his best mate and he literally runs out the door.

But ladies and gents as I lay there in my stunning matching set I see Wyatt’s wallet and phone.

He was telling the truth, he wasn’t running away, he was sprinting to his car to hunt for a condom at 2am.

I couldn’t even believe it.

About 4 minutes later he comes back in empty handed. 9

This gal can only laugh, really hard at this entire situation.

Because Wyatt and Max are the same which is why they are best friends, why they live together and why neither of them got to sleep with me.

No protection – no go – no exceptions.

Good night sir, its time to go to sleep.

You are going home empty handed and you ended up cock blocking yourself.

Check mate.

We woke up about 5am and Wyatt left because he had to go home and get ready for work and I put myself in the shower with a hangover before crawling back to bed for an hour.

It felt like a fever dream.

What the actual fuck.

Needless to say we never went on another date, in fact the chat just died out.

I was hit with “are you out tonight??” at 11.47pm

And I told him should he should try before 11pm next time.

He said that I seemed awake and was really really trying to get a booty call by even asking me if I was prepared.

It wasn’t me who wasn’t prepared.

I have an IUD.


Take some god damn accountability sir.

Up your bills by $5 a week and buy some condoms for your flat.

Put them at the door and just be fucking better.

Needless to say we never met up again.

Wyatt still follows me on the gram but I doubt he will read this blog as it has many words and not enough pictures.

Tinder Stories – He Was The Chosen One

Well here is a story of  why I think I am single.

Lets take a trip back in time and meet Nathan.

Nathan and I had been on a fair few dates and were quite comfortable together. It was safe to say that I knew how he liked to drink his tea and what side of the bed he liked to sleep on.

It’s a long weekend in Auckland and you best believe the day we are specifically looking at is Auckland Anniversary weekend. It is the weekend for Laneway. Which for those of you who don’t know is a singular day festival held in a park in the centre of the city. Creatures seek refuge under trees in the mid day sun and everyone becomes a bit of a pest when the sun goes down.

I am one of those pests on this day and apparently I am also full of ideas. You see Nathan wasn’t coming to Laneway and well that was fine by me at the start of the day because I had my squad. Don’t even try to come at me for using that word because I am pretty sure we are still trying to find out which way is Laneway.

Being the social (media) butterfly that I am you may have seen most of my day on a glorious Instagram story. Behind the scenes I was messaging Nathan as you do. You see I had asked him about half way through the day if he was going out that night or if I could come and stay the night with him. He said that he will get back to me as he was feeling quite tired but he was having a few drinks with his friends.

We all know there is a moment in all hangovers when you want nothing more than for someone to hold you and tell you that you aren’t dying and maybe just maybe see if they can bring you a water. I could feel it in my bones that in about 18 hours I would want to curl up on Nathan’s lap and sleep the next day away in 4 hour slots.

However we are still trying to find which way is Laneway and as the sun sets I realise that I have not heard from Nathan for a while.

So in any logical fashion you know what I did?

Texted him multiple times followed by snap chats and finally two phone calls and you know what I heard?

Absolutely nothing.

And for another 3 hours I forgot my quest to find a burrow to stay the night because I was still figuring out which way was Laneway.

The squad was still holding great form whilst we were watching the Jon Hopkins set when we were all starting to figure out how much gas was in the tank. The group was split, half was ready to go on to town and an adventure. I fell into Camp Snuggle and was calucalting how many steps it was going to take till I was in bed.

The question was who’s bed?

Que Seren’s logical brain kicking into 8th gear.

You see from the festival the next closest place was my best friend Laura’s apartment but 200 metres down the hill was Nathan’s place. You see my logic here.

It was at this moment I announced to the group that I was going to Nathan’s house even though I had not heard from him and in my brain if he wasn’t home I would just go back up the road to Laura’s house or continue on to my own house which was 1 km away.

So I took Gwen and we marched towards home. She had Laura’s key and her phone on loud and I took this moment to confess that I hadn’t heard from Nathan and to my surprise she was in full support of me getting what I want.

“you get those cuddles and if you can’t have them I’ll spoon the shit out of you”

Find friends who support your decisions even when they aren’t the best ones.

Off we went down the hill practically skipping to the entrance which is when I realised that I had forgotten that you can’t even get to the front door of the apartment without being buzzed in.

And in my state do you think I could remember Nathan’s apartment number. Absolutely not.

But what I could remember was that he lived on the ground floor and that only a large  concrete fence stood between me and his place.

With a boost up the wall I was now sitting there in a bralette, high waisted shorts, a bum bag staring right at his bedroom. A pest in her finest form only illuminated by the street lights.

And I couldn’t be more chuffed with myself.

Smug dumb dumb.

I scooted down the wall and knocked on Nathans bedroom. First there was no answer so I knocked again because I didn’t come this far to not be a winner.

A light flicked on and out of his bedroom came Nathan who was just wearing jockeys and incredibly confused as to what the fuck was going on just before midnight.

It was I dumb dumb.

I tapped on the glass with a talon and announced it was me. As if he couldn’t see through the glass and I was some sort of an invisible woman and I asked if I could come in.

Nathan unlocking the door asked if I was okay.

Of course I was okay, I had just gotten everything I wanted and was about 45 seconds away from bed.

Turning around I see Gwen who is now leaning over the short part of the fence between the trees. Saying goodnight and making sure she will be okay for the 200 metre walk back up the hill, Nathan thought I had gone crazy before he managed to spot her as she slipped back into the darkness.

I launched myself inside and immediately wrapping my long gangly arms around Nathan as he rubbed his eyes. He asked me where my top was and I had to tell him that I lost it and if he wanted any more details I would not be able to fill in the blanks.

My last two brain cells were struggling in my brain and we can’t ask much more of them.

He walked me into his bedroom told me to get into bed and pulled me in and told me to go to sleep.

And I did do that but not before giving him a play by play of my epic adventure. Because what is more annoying than a girl showing up to your house and then waking you up but to then keep you awake and overshare in the dark.

What was more amusing for Nathan was that when I finally fell asleep I was twitching a lot. You see in my brain me and my final two brain cells keep falling out of the sky. You know the feeling when you wake up because you are jolting yourself awake. I did that for hours and every single time good guy Nathan would squeeze me and tell me it’s okay.

Got to love when you pick the right guy to keep awake all night and not get angry at you.

You see in my eyes the only the only mistake I made that day was wearing a lingerie bra that clasped up at the front because EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I slightly pushed my boobs together it would pop open.

Which is clearly not the reason I am single.

However other factors that may be influencing why I am single are as follows:

  • Jumping a fence that doesn’t lead to my own house
  • Scaring the living daylights out of a boy I was seeing
  • Keeping him a wake all night
  • Being incredibly clingy the next morning
  • Asking for a t-shirt because ya girl needed to fuck off back up to her best friends house to die a great death but that 200 m walk was not going to be done in a bra alone

The jury is still out as to why I am single but I beginning to get a far clearer picture as to why. If you have any suggestions then please let me know. Its not like I’ve got 4 weeks devoted to personal development on my hands.


Tinder Stories – Donuts and finger nails don’t mix

In my time dating (though that time doesn’t seem to be over) I have met a few weird eggs.

Sure I am happy to admit I am a weirdo but in the sense that occasionally I make dinosaur noises and maybe that is why I am single. Maybe this entire story doesn’t have a leg to stand on because I have set my standards at a certain level and me saying no in this story makes me too weird to date?

You be the judge. I’ll just get back to the story.

His tinder profile was something straight from Instagram.

I could see he had curated his images so that he appeared like every millennials girls dream.

He had an amazing smile, the body ever dude probably wants and a love for adventure.

It’s easy to spot these sorts of guys of dating apps because it’s the “too good to be true” look. Pictures of animals, then exotic images of places they have been, some witty captions and no images of girlfriends past but they were definitely taken by them. Because no dude can make himself that candid on demand. 

As a general rule, I don’t swipe right on these guys because normally they are all talk and no delivery. No dude who spends that much time on his social media has enough time for a relationship. Call my bluff but those images are there for a reason and it is not for his mum to see. These profiles are riddled with red flags. But what have we learnt, Seren loves the colour red. 

But anyway this is the story of Liam.

A guy I matched with and how I worked out he wasn’t for me.

So let’s start at the beginning.

Liam and kicked things off and we got on well. The banter was good, he wasn’t destressing to look at and honestly he was a nice guy. 

But like all stories that make it onto the blog, it’s not all rainbows and lollipops.

It was an evening where Liam wanted to catch up.

It was also an evening I didn’t want company.

Bless Liam though as he said “I’ll pick up donuts and we can just watch a movie”.

Now listen, I knew my heart of hearts that Liam wasn’t trying to make himself boyfriend material nor was I wanted him to. He had some really fucking dumb things that I had to address. So Liam if you are reading this, this isn’t an invitation to come back into my DMs. 

Anyway, I told him I didn’t want company, that I was in a mood but he seemed to think he could change all of that.

We love a man who is yet to realise how powerless he is.

But back to the Uber Eats delivery of donuts that I don’t want but will say thank you for because I am not a savage.

I let Liam come round.

Liam turns up, donuts in hand and he’s rather chipper.

I put myself back in bed and put the donuts on my side table and ask him how he is. To which he didn’t answer but asked why I wasn’t eating the donuts.

  1. I said I wasn’t interested in donuts
  2. I said I wasn’t interested in you.
  3. I said I wasn’t interested in company.

So I just handed him the donuts and asked him what he wanted to watch and like most people we just sat there scrolling through Netflix for 10,000 years unable to pick a damn movie.

We were talking about what’s happened in our lives since the last time we caught up, Liam is just finishing off his donut when he asks me if I have any nail clippers.

To which I pause my scrolling and ask him:

“nail clippers?”

“yeah, I need to cut my finger nails”

Im sorry, what.

“you want to use my nail clippers?”


“oh no sorry that’s not happening”

“why not? it’s just me”

And at this moment I realise that this dude really isn’t kidding.

Then again when are they joking?

All I can say is “you aren’t using my nail clippers”

Liam then reveals his first and foolish card.

“well then you aren’t getting these hands”

Sir, I didn’t want you here in the first place, I didn’t want your donuts and I most definitly don’t want your god damn fucking hands that don’t actually do all that much.

“that’s fine by me honestly” is what I really said though isn’t it.

At this rate I am completely unsure why I even let him come round and most definitely do not know how to get him out quick enough.

And then I see him pick up his phone, open google and type in:

“is it weird to borrow nail clippers?”

What. The. Fuck. Honestly. Get. Out.

Twas at this moment I realised that Liam really wanted to do nothing more than to clip his god damn mother fucking nails.

And all I wanted was for this conversation to be over.

Listen I am not sure what was weirder the fact that he wanted to use my nail clippers or that he needed to use my nail clippers right then and there.

Like if he had a splinter then I would totally understand. They hurt like hell every single time you knock them. But Liam ain’t got no splinter. He ain’t even got one dang hang nail.

He’s just my last nerve and he’s stepping all over it.

And whilst I stare at him and realise that he is on page 2 of google trying to find anything that makes it not seem weird, I am planning on how do I get him out of my house asap whilst making this worth while?

Yup. You guessed it.

I slept with him.

Do you hear it? Its me hitting the bottom of the barrel.

Don’t worry, like most men, there wasn’t any foreplay on his behalf.

And 20ish minutes later I was alone in my room with donuts.

Liam hit me up at a later date.

He asked if he could come round with donuts again.

I said;

“Bring me champange, I’m over donuts “




He ruined pasta with his farts – Tinder Stories Part 4

Alas, we find ourselves once again reading about a story a tinder date that didn’t work out. Yes, Seren once again went on a date. I am now officially adding perseverance to my CV.

So let us again take a trip back in time. It was a Wednesday, its 8pm and I still park 50m away from where he actually lives because of what I said in Part 1. Brent and I we going for a drink in Mission Bay and for those of you who aren’t from Auckland is a place with a beach, beer and well somewhere to walk just on the outskirts of the CBD.

It was literally and figuratively downhill from there. The stroll to alcohol was rather painful because of a few things:

  1. I wore heels and walking downhill was crushing my toes.
  2. The alcohol was too far away and not in my body already.
  3. What the topic of conversation was couldn’t have been more strange.

As Brent and I walked you could clearly hear that I had overdressed thanks to my heels but I doubt he cared as he told me all about his digestive habits.

You too now get to enjoy the conversation I somehow didn’t run away from. He told me that he eats a lot of food. More than anyone at work. Do remember he isn’t overweight in the slightest and he hits the gym at least 3 times a week. So 3 times more than me.

With eating a large amount of varied food came a conversation that most couples never have and if they do its many many moons into their relationship. Not minutes into meeting each other.

Brent informed me very clearly that with a large consumption of carbohydrates that his body proceeds to create large amounts of unpleasant gas.

We were about 6 minutes into our walk. We had just gotten past the small talk of what we had for dinner and well now I was worried about what else might happen tonight.

He continued to talk about his body and all its magic tricks, I repeated the lines that came out of him and he laughed at his own conversation.

“So pasta isn’t good for me but I eat it anyway”.

“Pasta isn’t good for you, that isn’t ideal”

* Brent laughs *

* Seren stares at the ground screaming internally “THIS DATE ISNT FUCKING IDEAL” *

We finally arrive at the bar and grab a table. After a vigorous walk downhill because the quicker we get to the bar the quicker I can drink, the quicker this can all be over.

Now I totally understand what is it to get nervous around a complete stranger, I have done that. I actually blurted out “So do you like cheese?” on a date once. He was good looking and well that got me really frazzled and that is all my brain could come up with when he looked at me.

Heres a tip for all of you, just don’t talk about bodily functions on a date. No one needs to know when you poop.

Brent is sitting there unzipping his jacket when it gets stuck. Just like the conversation did only a few minutes prior.

“oh that is so annoying, I only just brought this jacket, see look”

He then proceeds to pull his jacket around his body in some sort of exorcist fashion and show me that he still had the tags attached to the jacket.

It was now at this moment when I thought to myself, how the fuck did I end up here.

Once again I needed a fake phone call whisking me away but instead, I endured hoping it would get better.

Its like when you are yelling at the tv when you are watching a horror saying to turn around and run in the opposite direction and not look back.

I was the classic white girl who thought she should check it out and ends up dying.

Instead of dying, it’s just me wasting my time.

It was to the disappointment of Brent that I wrapped things up early. Girls gotta sleep and get the fuck out of there.

So as we started the uphill walk back to his house he thought he would revisit our topics of conversations.

We were mostly home and mostly through the bad conversations about how often Brent goes to the bathroom which rest assured is a normal amount when my phone starts to ring.

Thank the baby Jesus it’s my mum. Jenny saves the day with a random phone call

And you sure as hell know I take the call explaining I was just catching up with a friend and she decodes it as a date and askes me all the closed questions.

“Is it going well?” “Um no not really”

“Are you okay?” “yeah yeah”

“Want to call me after?” “That sounds like a great idea”

I hugged Brent goodbye, jumped in my car and well put my mum on speaker phone and proclaimed how fine I am with being single at the traffic lights.



He was my first and didn’t know it – Tinder Stories Part 3

Let us go back in time. To the first ever Tinder date I went on.

And by date I really mean coffee.

You see in the beginning I was rather tame. I was the girl who got asked out. Don’t worry I got rid of that very naive girl.

Because of this experience.

We shall call this guy, Tim.

He is a financial advisor and in his late 20’s.

And as they all are, he was lovely. Very friendly and not a murderer. Tim didn’t know that he was my first ever Tinder date.

Tim got an early coffee date in Ponsonby on a Wednesday.

Giving you some backstory here, I had drunkenly agreed to meet Tim in a club one evening but instead went home by passing the McDonalds on Great North Road, crawled into bed with a cheeseburger (WITHOUT PICKLE BECAUSE THAT IS THE DEVILS FOOD) and went to sleep. I woke up to many messages and a sore head.

Needless to say, I said sorry and made a new time.

So I have been running around all morning, working and doing errands, Tim and I have finally agreed on a place and a time.

1pm on Ponsonby Road.

Its now 12.42pm and my phone is at 1%.

Yeah, yeah, we know now that the universe was trying to give me a sign – WHICH I CLEARLY DIDNT TAKE.

So being the smart gal that I am, I use my car’s clock, wait until 12.45 pm and head into the cafe.

Being nervous I thought it would take 15 minutes for me to walk from my car to the cafe.

Girl. It was a 60-second walk.

But that doesn’t matter because I checked my watch.

Which I look at to see that it is not working.

Yes, yes sign number two.


I order a coffee and find a seat. Because I don’t want to be late when I had stood him up that weekend.

Now I will tell you time does not move more slowly than when you are waiting for a Tinder date.

So I get halfway through my latte when a tall guy in a full suit strolls through the door.

I smile and he walks over.

And before I can even stand up to give him a hug and apologize for standing him up that one time.

Tim says:

“Why did you not pick up your phone when I called you?”

Now listen, we literally had not even said hello yet.

My first words to him in the flesh are.

“My phone died.”

And just like the millennial generation, we are he fired back with:

“your lying”.

To which I pressed the home button of my phone multiple times to show how it just wasn’t working.

And like a three-year-old, he snatched it out of my hands and tried himself.

Now I was taught never to snatch and never to take anything that wasn’t yours.

But I think Tim missed those lessons because he’s now trying to turn on my very dead phone.

He shrugs and asks me if I have a drink and at this point, I don’t want to give him any of my time so I just point to my coffee and offer the fakest smile my body could conjure up.

Tim starts a conversation in regards to me flaking on him the other weekend and I take the opportunity to apologize and say that it would not have been a good idea anyway.

Then the waitress walks over.

And Tim ask if I would like a drink and I re-point at my coffee. He then orders a whisky and ginger ale.

Now whisky can be cool. But he asks me if I want a proper drink. Reminder, its 1pm on a Wednesday.

Here is an insight to all of you, listen to people when they tell you what they have planned for the day.

I would love a drink but guess what, I have to go and take care of small humans, drive them around and then go and do my third job later that evening.

So no.

No thank you Tim.

Then it occurred to me, I will have no idea what the time is or when can I can get the hell out of this situation. I can’t even check in to say that I haven’t been murdered or take a fake phone call.

So I think to myself, this is your first ever time and you should just give Tim a chance. Think about the other person Seren and then I realise Tim is talking and I really haven’t been listening. This Tinder dating thing is not as easy as I was expecting. I am not like a duck to water this time. I am a duck to a dessert, confused to how I even got to this.

So I chime into the conversation and ask the normal questions of how is work going and have you has it been busy.

I ask him a question about himself to which he responds with “oh, I am a really laid back guy”.  What I am seeing in front of me is this.

A dude who goes to the gym 6 days a week, wakes up at 9am and goes to work around 2pm, is covered in gold jewellery. By covered I mean; gold watch, gold rings, a gold bangle and a gold chain. He also is smoking and offers me one to which I politely decline.

And out of the blue, he straight up asks me when I see myself getting married. Listen, buddy, I don’t know what I am having for dinner tonight let alone when I want to get married. All I know is that it’s not going to be to you and now I have finished my coffee and should really go but the conversational flow is definitely not leaning that way so I just say fuck it to another $5 and 30 minutes of my time and order another coffee.

I have no idea what time it is and the waitress has no idea that I would love her to save me but we can all just pretend that this is all going better than it looks.

Skip ahead in the conversation, he’s on his third cigarette and second whisky and I now know he’s looking to settle down. I ask a very difficult question. “Why do you find yourself single?”

The response sealed the deal. Put the nail in the coffin and made me delete the app for about a week because I had forgotten that men like this actually exist.

“I guess I am single because I want someone who will fit into my life. I don’t see myself changing because my life is great.”

And just like a scene from Limitless, I watched the next phase of my potential life play out. I’ll give you a sneak peak, it doesn’t end well. I cook chicken, steam broccoli and give up all my aspirations for a man who likes to wear too many gold accessories.

So I asked for the time, fake gasped like any good woman knows how to do and made it so believable that I just had to run because I couldn’t miss the school pick up even though it was 2.15pm.

I’m pretty sure he never figured out I was lying because he asked to meet again. And I said I was busy for the next while. I mean I was, busy building a life that wouldn’t give up.

Fun fact, I saw Tim in a club many moons later and even then he said we should go and get coffee. I also think Tim has coffee and whisky very confused.

That time I got catfished – Tinder Stories Part 2

Swiping away on Tinder there are a few things that go through one’s head.

  1. This is horrible and I am a bad person for saying no to all these potentially lovely people because they don’t look good.
  2. I swear I have seen this profile before.
  3. Superlike the person you know and now have caught on Tinder.
  4. I swear I have seen this profile before.
  5. Unmatch all the drunk 3am matches.
  6. Freak out because you realised you got catfished.

For those of you who don’t know what catfishing is, let us turn to our old faithful Urban Dictionary:

Someone who pretends to be someone else, especially on the internet. Found on anywhere from Instagram to Twitter to chat sites, these people use fake pictures to disguise who they are. A synonym for this in some situations may be “troll” because the majority of catfish out there are simply out to troll others, while others have their own reasons for this approach. Often catfish, once discovered, are faced with people full of annoyance and frustration at being “catfishes”

– Urban Dictionary 2018

Now I never thought I would get catfished, I mean does anyone. If I was going to throw down stereotypes, I would say men get catfished, not women. But alas, its 2018 and well here is the story of the time I got catfished.

Being a tall gal that I am, 5’11 if anyone is really interested, my perpetual fear is that I potentially meet ‘The One” and he turns out to be shorter than me. Oh and if he put tomato sauce all over his food. Both things that I would just say no to even if he was perfect in all other areas.

So when a tinder profile says heights, its a factor. If I think a guy looks short in comparison to his friends in his profile, I’ll just swipe left.

You can imagine my surprise when I stumbled across Matt.


I will tell you right now, that I have mastered the art of looking shorter in photos when standing next to my male counterparts because I love a good pair of tall heels. On a very serious note, all kitten heels should be burned along with pickles. Both are the spawn of the devil. But back to Matt, who I absolutely swiped right on.

A couple of days later we matched and we started talking. We got on, he had a bit of banter and he told me how he had jumped back between the UK and NZ.

He asked me if I would want to meet for a drink and I agreed. Though the evening we had agreed to meet, I had a rather busy evening ahead, your girl had triple booked herself. I had said that I would pick my best friend up from work and fought traffic for an hour to get him because no one should catch the bus on their birthday. I said that I would have drinks with Matt and just to keep it interesting I said that I would also have drinks with another Matt later in the evening.

How to date in 2018, just do it all in one evening. Like a tasting course but with shit company and lots of gin.

On my way, Matt and I were chatting about the fact that he might be finishing work late and that our drinks at 6pm might have to be postponed. Bear in mind that we had already called a rain check on drinks twice before due to other commitments.

I was about to merge onto the motorway when the guy threw me a curveball. I said that I could be potentially late because of the traffic situation and that I had an event to go to that evening (by an event I really mean, another Tinder date). Word for word, this what he said:

“I’ve got good news and bad news babe.

Good news is I can come meet up!

Bad news is I probably don’t have time for a full sit down drink 😦 

Shall I bring some beer or a wine over to yours?”

To which I responded 

“Oh I’m fine for just A drink at Mr Toms, I have a dinner party to go to at 7.30”.

I thought it was weird that he didn’t have time to meet me in a bar for a drink but was willing to bring around more than one drink to my house, to meet me. Crawling through traffic I texted him back and said we can cancel if need be as I can’t miss my event/ dinner party and that I wasn’t getting off the motorway.

So fast forward, I’ve picked my best friend up and we are heading back to the city with good time and I am applying a face of makeup as Matt texts me to tell me he was just about here.

He gets 5 brownie points because be offered to pick me up but minus 8 points for being super early.

Matt sitting at -3 brownie points even before the date.

Face applied, outfit checked and the man kept waiting, I headed out the door.

Now he wasn’t lying when he said he was tall. I hugged the dude and I totally had to go for the underarm snuggle because I would have to climb him like a tree to even attempt an over the shoulder hug.

We jumped in his car which he seemed to cram himself into like a clown into a mini and drove just down the road to a bar.

He opened the door for me (+ 2 points) and told me to grab a table before asking me what I would like to drink and headed towards the bar (+2 points).

Sitting at a high table I suddenly heard my name. Which for someone with a very uncommon name I thought I had heard Sarah. However, it was, in fact, someone asking for me.

To my disbelieve and utter amusement on waiting for my gin and tonic to arrive, standing before me was the father of the girls I nanny for.

Auckland may have 1.5 million people but this was proof that it was a small city. Awkwardly explaining to him that I was on a date and that my date was now coming back to the table I think had to do bloody introductions.

Just imagine introducing your date to your boss and not skulling your drink. If I could have melted into the floor, I would of.

Sensing my uncomfortableness my boss excused himself to the bathroom and Matt and I got chatting.

This is what I know about Matt:

  1. he was born here
  2. split his childhood between the UK and NZ
  3. went to The University of Canterbury
  4. works as a digital analyst
  5. he is a wet blanket

I switched off after 20 minutes and I was trying to figure out how many times I could stir my gin and tonic before the lime flew out.

Matt then said he was going to pop to the bathroom and when he got back he wanted to know all about me. As he left the table he asked the bartender for another round. This is the one and only time I have almost turned down gin.

He gets back and starts to ask all the normal questions; do you have any siblings, can you explain your thesis to me, what do you want to do with your degree, blah, blah blah.

People and hospitality talk about a fake laugh or smile they put on. I believe I have found my fake amusement for Tinder.

I can’t remember what we were talking about but I distinctly remember Matt telling a story about himself and saying:

my mate was like to me, ‘Greg don’t be such a dickhead'”



Who the fuck is Greg?

He was meant to be telling a story about himself or did I miss something.

Ive had two gins and I am not sleep deprived. I swear I just heard him say, Greg.

Either way, now I’m frowning like a child who has just been told no by their mum in the supermarket and my tinder date is finally getting the signal that its time to go.

I excused myself to the bathroom, fire off a message to the best friends about what just happened and that we were leaving the bar.

He drops me back at my friend’s apartment, tells me he had a lovely time and to have a nice evening.

Dude was nice don’t get me wrong, but nice guys finish last.

Then I was back out the door again to the next tinder date.

I can tell you right now, that was a far better improvement than what I had just experienced.

Oh and if no one has figured out yet, women who date are fucking savages.

Cue the weekend.

Matt texts me, multiple times. I just don’t reply.

My gut is telling me not to text him back.

So after my last experience, I don’t.

Cue June and I am back swiping through tinder at 3am when this came up.


That looks like Matt.

With the same bio, the same age but different photos.

I wasn’t tripping balls.

I, Seren Powell-Jones got catfished.

Now you might be asking how did you not notice when you met him? Did he not look like the photos?

I couldn’t see his face when its in the outer stratosphere.

I can tell you he drives a white Rave Four like car and that he listens to rock. But the details of his face are as clear to me as Auckland harbour after it’s been raining.

So I took a screenshot, sent it to my best friends and then I super liked him.

Sadly it wasn’t an instant match and I hate drunk Seren who cleared out her Tinder.

To conclude, this is where I call on the power of the internet.

I’ve tried to reverse google him to no avail.

So, does anyone know who Matt, Greg or Jeremy is?

Or if they know anyone matching the description of the man I described?

Tinder Stories – I literally ran away from him as he lay there naked

So the following is a real story.

Sorry in advance mum and dad.

It was a late evening and I was at home.

My phone went off.

I had a Tinder notification.

Let’s call him Max.

Max and I had been talking for a few days, he moved to Auckland a few months ago. Left a longterm relationship, back in his hometown which turns out to be on the other side of the world.

We moved off tinder to KIC. Which for those of you who don’t know, is an app that works exactly like Messenger but you don’t have to give over your name.

Now you might be thinking, “Seren, why would you do that?”. Because Max was not relationship material. Not to me.

Standing at over 6 foot (at least that is what his bio said) and having an accent his downfall was that he the brains of a slow lorris.

Now before you get your judgement pants on and take the road of thinking you are better than me. I will remind you that everyone has a moment when their needs outweigh their rationale (and by rational I mean their sex drive is far more powerful than their standards)

The conversation had veered away from the usual “so what did you do today?” to the “what are you doing tonight ;)”

Then he gave me his address.

On a nice side note and safety tip, if you are going around to essentially a strangers house here are my tips.

  1. give that address to two different people.
  2. go to their house (you can always leave, just not from your own place)
  3. park your car 2 mins away from the location.
  4. wear flat shoes.
  5. know where the exits are and what the locks look like.
  6. don’t actually let your guard down.
  7. keep your phone on loud.

The internet gave me these and I am thankful for the internet as this story will back these hot tips up.

So I sent this address to my best friends and thought I’ll just get a little dressed up. Not for him but for me, dude was lucky I was even coming over. As I was applying some mascara my phone went off quite a few time.

It was, of course, Max because all the other men in my life were sleeping. Turns our boys need far more sleep than girls. But not our mate Max.

He was asking me how long I was going to be.

I had looked his address up, he was a 6-minute drive. So I told him 40 minutes. Because this isn’t Uber Eats.

He told me that it was too long. I told him either wait 40 minutes or wait for forever.

Then he asked me how I was getting to his.

I said on a magic carpet.

Time ticked passed, I grabbed my keys, phone and wallet and headed out the door at 11.45pm at night.

And at 11.51pm I was about 1.5km from his house and I told him I was just finding a park. For the 6 minute drive, I had been ignoring his messages about if I was actually coming.

I parked and the first warning sign came on. QUITE LITERALLY.

My engine light came on in my car. I thought to myself, welp you are already here, it is better the car goes completely cold before you drive it again and in the morning just sort it out. So I jumped out of my car and started to walk toward Max.

When I arrived, he meets me outside and gave me a quick hug before ushering me through the front door.

It was a simple lock and I duly noted that.

He showed me through to his room. Which was a mess.

I had given the dude 40 minutes and the only thing he had done in that time was piss me off and make his bed.

Don’t worry though, I asked him why he hadn’t cleaned his room.

“Oh I have just moved to Auckland and I have been really busy at work.”

Mate, you moved here months ago and then there were 40 minutes I had graced you with.

He asked me if I wanted a drink, I said a water because I was driving home tonight. Establishing that you aren’t hanging around after this is all over is great.

We started talking and Max was funny as it turns out. Nervous as hell but funny. I felt like he had Parkinson’s when he tucked the bit of hair out of my face.

So as you can imagine one thing was leading to another when I was sitting on top of him with no shirt on and my phone started to get a call.

I grabbed my phone and it was someone important.

This was warning sign number two.

But yes, you are damn right in thinking I answered it, in my bra, jeans unbuttoned and on top of a boy.

Now before you start thinking “poor Max”, the dude was loving it. As I established why I was being called late at night, Max was all over me like a rash.

At one point I shoved his head down into the pillow, glared at him and kept my hand on his forehead whilst I tried to finish the conversation.

It is just as funny as you can picture.

I did apologize but I can assure you Max was incredibly unbothered. With a half naked girl on top of you its hard to get angry.

So we picked up where we left off. Phone call over. Hand off his forehead.

And then I asked that beautiful question.

“Do you have a condom?”

And mate, you could drop a pin and hear it on his carpeted floor it went that quiet.

“Oh, um, no.”

To which I replied, “you are fucking with me right?”

“I will message my flatmate to see if he has any.”

Now, this was warning sign number three. The universe was trying to tell me to run. And I needed a game plan to get the fuck outta there.

“Can I use your bathroom whilst we wait on a reply?”

So I jumped out of bed, got FULLY dressed, socks and all. Smiled and went to the bathroom.

And I started thinking, quickly. I flushed the toilet I didn’t use, washed my hands because it needed to be a believable performance on my part and walked back into his room.

“I think I have a condom in my car, I left a bag from town in the back seat and that should have one.”

The light in his eyes was blinding. He sat up.


“Yep, I will just have to go and grab it.”

Saying that I pick up my wallet, keys and grab my phone.

Turned on my heels and gapped it for the front door whilst sliding on my flat shoes at speed.

Simple lock. Got it.

I literally ran away from him as he lay there naked.

But then I heard running and shuffling.

Looking back down the hallway he is pulling on pants saying how he will come with me.

I am holding the door open right now with a half-naked man looking at me like a dog about to go on a walk.

“I parked a while away.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because you could be a psychopath.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“I know but the car is a bit of a walk away so if you want to come you will need shoes and a shirt.”

“Why did you park so far away?”

“Because I did.”

“You aren’t ditching me are you?”

“No, no, I will get my jog on to the car and park closer when I come back, I’ll be like 5 minutes I reckon, just leave the front door unlocked and I will meet you in bed.”

“Okay, see you soon, be careful!”

I smiled and headed out the door, where I got my jog on, carefully of course.

Jumped in my car, I deleted KIC, unmatched him from tinder and deleted the app from my phone and told my best friends that I had a good story for them in the AM.

Unsure if Max’s front door is still unlocked or if he is still waiting for me but he does like to try to add me on Instagram every now and then. After his third attempt to DM me I decided to block him.

Moral of this story is: don’t be like Max, clean your room, have protection and don’t ask dumb questions.