Last semester, I told my friend about this article I read in the University of North Carolina newspaper. This girl went on 7 tinder dates in 7 days and wrote about it.

In response to this article, my friend told me that she was planning to have a “perfect week,” like Barney Stinson from How I Met Your Mother.

“Okay,” I say, “How does one do that?”

“I’m going to go seven days without having to buy my own dinner.”

“Oh,” I say. “What’s your strategy?”

“Tinder.”

At first I was a bit skeptical and rather concerned about my friend’s judgment. But then when invited to kick start her perfect week with her on a double date, I didn’t refuse.

After all, I was promised free food.

Before the date, we had to take all necessary precaution, in case something would go wrong. We had a full tank of gas for a speedy getaway, a good friend prepared to call with a rock solid excuse if it got too awkward, and pepper spray – because you just never know.

But nothing could have prepared us for what actually happened.

In hindsight, we should have known what we were getting ourselves into, because the boy she was meeting was wearing a “Reagan Bush ‘84” tank top.

When we first met our respective dates, we thought they seemed decent enough. Her date had recently finished serving in the military so we at could at least safely assume that he was a respectable lad.

The friend that he brought (my “date,” I guess) was a little too outspoken for my taste, but as the date went on and the Tinder boy continued to throw back drinks like they were water, we quickly learned why he was using tinder and his friend was not.

Naturally, he started talking to us about politics. I guess he felt like his shirt didn’t speak for itself. Why he felt like this was a casual conversation for perfect strangers, I will never know, but once he started talking about how he wants to “make America great again,” he could not be stopped.

Periodically throughout the night, he would also talk (loudly) about how stupid he thinks the military is. He doesn’t understand how people could possibly do it because it doesn’t serve a purpose. This is all shortly after he told us that he had recently gotten back from his service overseas, and how important his experience was to him.

We then learned that my date had his own podcast, and he invited us to be guests on his show because he was genuinely interested in the things that we had to say.

At this point in the evening, Tinder boy was hammered. We had to leave because we had to get home and do our homework, but he told us that since we were girls, we didn’t really have to worry about school, so we should stay and hang out.

Tempting.

The only thing keeping us here is the check, as we don’t know if these boys are paying for us or not.

Then this guy decides that he wants to ask us about what we find attractive in people.

“So if you see a really hot guy and then a really ugly one, which one are you going to go for?”

Is he serious?

Yes, actually, he is dead serious.

When we politely explained that we were interested in people that we actually get along with rather than just look good in pictures, he was astounded.

“Really? Girls care about more than just what people look like?”

He’s joking right?

No. Unfortunately, this was actually news to him.

He then thanked us for teaching him that women have the capacity to think about things besides what we think is pretty, because he genuinely did not know that any being without a penis could think for themselves.

I wish that I was exaggerating.

I wish that this was just a silly conversation I had with a kid.

This was a grown man, who had lived his whole life thinking that what was between his legs actually made him a superior human.

The rest of my friend’s perfect week was about as successful as she needed it to be, because then she got payed and didn’t have to consult the internet for food.

We did not make a guest appearance on the friend’s podcast.