(Disclaimer: If you are my mother or my grandmother you should probably not read this)
A few months ago I broke up with my girlfriend. It was one of those situations where we were incredibly stupid and decided to go to the same college together, were rooming on the same floor together and even taking a class together. So, of course, it was inevitable that by the time December rolled around we would no longer be together. The actual breakup was messy with mistakes being made on both sides, but that’s an article for another day. The focus of this article is the personal journey that followed.
So, after my now very recent ex had left my room, I had to make some changes. First was Facebook. New profile picture, new relationship status and a Facebook message within a half-hour from that one girl from summer camp that I still to this day haven’t opened. The usual. However, my life had been majorly changed and the day wasn’t over yet.
All of you have probably heard of the infamous “dating” app Tinder. Tinder debuted in 2012 and two years later had one billion swipes a day. I decided it was time to throw my metaphorical hat in the STD-infested ring and get to swiping. Which I did, hardcore. I would swipe in the morning and I would swipe at night. Did you know you can run out of swipes? Many people had no idea, but I sure did, running out twice a day. (This did lead to over 300 matches in a few months, which I can't tell if it's something I should be proud of or deeply ashamed.)
So there I was, rebounding harder than Wilt Chamberlin. This is also when my friends began to refer to me as “Thirsty Jeff.” A title which I decided to embrace with all my might. All my friends had to say was, “Girl!” and I would perk up immediately as if I was a dog being pointed at a squirrel. One night they said it would be a good idea to go to the local all-girls catholic school to pick up chicks. I still believe the night could’ve been incredible if it didn’t end in us finding out that they were still off on winter break. However, we refused to be discouraged so we went and hit up the club, which for Thirsty Jeff was a dream come true. Girls as far as the eye could see, just waiting to dance and make-out. There’s not too much more to be said about that night, other than I returned home with my friends and no one else.
This was my life for a few months, and while it wasn’t the healthiest in any sense of the word, it was a necessary evil. Not that everything was bad, I still don’t regret the kick-ass tattoo on my side. However, from the beginning, it was destined to end. Bumble, an app similar to Tinder where the girl has to message first, matched me up with a female. A female who messaged me and we agreed to meet up one Thursday afternoon. A female who a mere half-hour after meeting me in person asked if I would like to have sex. (I’ll leave what Thirsty Jeff's answer would be to your imagination.) I also agreed to go on an actual date with this female. Which was the worst. Cause let me tell you, some girls online be crazy. (At one point I was texting people I knew the make and model of her car if I happened to "disappear" in the woods.) I determined that Saturday night that if I couldn’t spend time with a person outside of the bedroom, I had no business being in bed with them. The next day I deleted my “dating” apps. And just like that, Thirsty Jeff left the world as easy as he came into it.
In the following time, the now-normal Jeff would meet a wonderful girl in a band, start talking to her and eventually form a fantastic relationship. Thirsty Jeff is nowhere to be seen, not even at the strip club. Did I mention strip club? Well, that’s also another article for another time.
