If you follow me on Facebook, you’ll know I joined Tinder a few weeks ago. You all know I love a good fuck, but for some reason Tinder really turned me off.
But I did it. I joined. Swiping in all directions for the men of Atlanta. And oh boy, there are a lot of men in Atlanta.
Very long story shortened, I agreed to meet one of these fuckers at Burger King. What is it with me and Burger King? This was daylight, at least, so no blowjobs. He’s attractive in his profile and via texting, but he hasn’t smiled, so I didn’t know.
I didn’t fucking know.
I pull up in my cute little Jeep and wave to him, only to have him smile back and reveal he doesn’t have teeth!
Not whole ones, anyway.
Broken and rotted, most of this front teeth missing, and the top two only shards of what had been there before.
Yeah, I’m a shallow bitch. A guy has to have teeth. All I could think about was he’d texted about wanting to eat me and bite me and ow…the slither of broken tooth would surely hurt like fuck. I seriously contemplate leaving. Neither of us have gotten out of our vehicles yet, so there was minimal chance of running him over in my haste.
He rolled down the window. Tried to flirt. Got in my passenger seat to speak. Asked me to touch his dick (I said no), asked me to kiss him (I said no), and asked for a hug (I said no).
Never again will I meet a guy who hasn’t smiled in any pics. It should have been a sign. A warning. Something.