There I was. After two years of a seemingly #couplegoals relationship, crying in the staircase of my dorm while my (ex) not-so Prince Charming broke my heart and threw me away. Mascara ran down my face and ruined the perfect contour that took me 1.5 hours of hard work as he gave up on the relationship that I had worked on just as hard. I spent the next two weeks hooking up at frat parties, downing cheap wine, and going on crappy dates with thirsty guys I matched with on Tinder. Basically, I was your average heartbroken sorority girl.
Then I found it, a website sent from Aphrodite herself. Some guy in Texas decided one day to create a site where you can log on and get paid to go on dates with guys who ask you. As I sat there, with my ex’s number burning in my phone and an embarrassing number of pizza boxes next to me, I decided I needed to do something. Anything to get me out of this slump. So naturally, I checked out the website. As I navigated through my options, I thought, why the hell not? I was curious, and after two wasted years, I wanted to feel like my time was worth something.
So I created an account, put up my hottest selfie as my profile picture, and made my date price $50 bucks for an hour of my time at my favorite sushi place. Thirty-seven minutes later I had five guys asking me out on a date.
Then, I sat there and pondered my morals a little. Should I do it? Does this count as escorting? What will my grandma think if she finds out about this? But then, as my ex’s name popped up on my screen, undoubtedly asking for a booty call, I decided — fuck it. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with me going on a date with some guy who is desperate and lonely. If anything, it should count for service hours. I mentally dared anyone to try to send me to standards as I accepted a date with some guy named Tanner. He was twenty-two, a little (okay very) nerdy looking, and he went to the same college as me. So I sent him a message, he sent me a time, and we set the date for two days later.
Tanner met me at the sushi place and we had a great dinner. He was the kind of guy you friend-zone because “he’s so sweet and you just don’t want to ruin the friendship” aka he’s not your type. He was so nice but so awkward. I could immediately tell that he didn’t go out much. When we were finished with dinner I gave him a side hug bye and went on my merry way home. The next day the money from the date was in my PayPal account. I got a pedicure and new nails with the fifty bucks and screened Tanner’s requests for future dates.
As I admired my new, date paid for manicure, I realized something. That guy was so lonely and sad about not knowing any girls, and I changed his life. And my life. I changed both of our lives, just by having a conversation. Fifty dollars and keeping some poor kid from being sad and alone on a Wednesday night? It felt like I was Emma Stone from Easy A, minus the bomb wardrobe and all the sex stuff. A true saint.
Screw wasting my time going out with the fuckboys I meet at the gym or on Tinder. No, I’m not down to Netflix and Chill, so don’t ask. But find me online and for $50 maybe I’ll give you an hour of my time — unless you have a face like Channing Tatum and a body to match. Then let’s talk, free of charge..
Image via Youtube