Limericks For Lost Online Dates

by Jen Winston

His profile was love at first sight
We both liked The Onion — — my knight!
But I dropped my phone
And then he was gone
And so was my chance to swipe right

Who cares if I really hate sports
And for work, he writes “baseball reports”?
It’s only one date
I mean, this could be fate!
Nope, nevermind, he’s the worst

This is a bad conversation
“When will Seinfeld end syndication?”
I don’t know the answer
But know you are a cancer
And I much prefer masturbation

His profile says he loves meat
But I prefer veggies, no cheese
So on our first date
I choose the place
A bar, so he can’t see me eat

I wanted a boy who moved slower
But he sent me a pic of his boner
So now we’ve never met
Never will, and yet
I can still confirm: he’s a grower

As proof I didn’t think we’d have sex,
My FitBit was clipped near my chest
But my date was Don Juan
And when we were done
I hit 23,000 steps

Tinder might seem like it’s fate
But the dates are all a disgrace
Two drinks, talk crap
When you’re done, check the app
See the new head that’s grown in his place

His arms were covered in ink
And he really liked Ariel Pink
But a freak in the streets
Is a freak in the sheets
So our two dates were worth it, I think

I’d downed too much pre-date liquor
And choosing my clothes was the kicker
Accidentally put on
The same shirt I’d worn
In my Tinder profile picture

When I said I was feminist, he asked
Would I still be if he paid for my glass?
I said, “Let’s find out!”
He put on a pout
And said, “Actually, I don’t have cash.”

I’ve never been attracted to money
I like artists and guys who are punny
But Tinder bohemians
Are all broke comedians
They’re so many things — — just not “funny”

I’d been in New York for two weeks
And wanted to date someone chic
I swiped right on a mime
But I was quick to find
There’s a reason that most mimes don’t speak

His bio said, “Whatever will be”
Generic, I thought, but still sweet
He seemed like a catch
But we weren’t a match
Que sera, sera, indeed

He had a good beard and was tallish
Shared Interest: David Foster Wallace
It was fun, didn’t last
And now it’s the past
A footnote, if that’s what you call it

Jen Winston is a writer living and attempting to date in Brooklyn.