So I met Richard online via Tinder.
So far, I’ve only met one decent guy on Tinder but I KEEP TRYING.
It only took 4 text messages for Richard to ask me to move in with him.
I call BULLSHIT but whatever. Who am I to ignore a man who gets “lost in my eyes and captivated by my smile?”
I politely suggested coffee or a cocktail instead of moving in together.
I ask him why Tinder says he’s 7,794 miles away and he tells me that he was in Spain supervising a hotel building project there.
Is this the point in the conversation where the money hungry woman latches on to the man dangling wealth in front of her?
I didn’t take the bait.
In fact, I may have mocked him a bit.
“Let me guess. . . You work at a development company with diversified real estate holdings,” I reply.
Oh dear. Even I think I sound bitchy.
He comes back with “I own the company, actually.”
Of course he does.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
I’m pretty sure this guy is going to stop texting me anytime now.
But I can’t stop myself.
It’s like he’s a cliché and I’m trapped in a romance novel only I don’t believe a word of it.
Girl meets sexy, handsome, tall global jetsetter millionaire who falls in love with her eyes and smile and whisks her away on a whirlwind romantic tour of the world.
God damn, I can be a bitch sometimes.