the long awaited update on my date with the hot real estate agent from tinder
because you're all as invested in this as i am. let's go.
substack, wow.
where to even begin?
first of all, i’ve been off this platform for a few days because life got hectic in all the best ways - and i also had the ADHD urge to purge my entire closet on a Friday night because I was frantically looking for something to wear for my date with the hot real estate agent from tinder I mentioned in my last post.
isn’t it funny how as women we can own all the clothes in the world and still have nothing to wear?
we need clothes for “hot week” aka ovulation week, and comfy clothes for the dreaded bloating of PMS week. and i was having one of those days where everything i tried on was giving me body-dysmorphia.
i know we’ve all been there.
so i did what any woman nervous to meet a cutie on a first date does… shop for a new wardrobe.
i stopped in to a clothing boutique on my walk home from grabbing dinner with a friend on friday and found the perfect little black dress. she was the moment.
so, alas, with a clean & organized closet and a new ensemble - I was ready for my date with mr. “just sold another heart” – aka the hot realtor who could close a deal faster than I can close my bra.
but before we jump into how saturday’s date went - i need to stop and take a moment to appreciate all of you beautiful humans that have found their way to my cozy corner of the internet.
when i logged in today to update you on my weekend, i opened this app up to 160+ subscribers. that’s more than double the amount i had when i signed off on friday, and i wish i had the right words to say thank you for supporting me on this new writing venture.
i mentioned it in a note on here a few days ago, but you’re all healing a part of me without realizing. i was always the friend who talked too much, said to much, asked for too much - and to see that 160 of you have hit subscribe to listen to me yap about random shit without knowing anything about me, means the entire fucking world to me.
and i’m not just saying that to be cheeky and cute.
you’ve healed a part of my heart eternally. you’ve given me proof that my words do matter, and 160 of you care to hear what i have to say. after living a life where i forced myself to shrink & silence to appease others or “fit in”, you’re allowing me to show up on here exactly as i am, and for that, words will never suffice for how thankful i am.
so, to everyone that subbed - thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
and if you haven’t yet, what are ya waiting for?
okay, enough mush. back to business.
saturday rolls around and the universe decided to play a sick game with me on a beautiful sunny saturday morning.
i was so excited to pop on my little black dress and feel powerful AF walking into that restaurant… until i realized aunt flo would be joining us on this date, too.
for the ladies reading this, you know how devastating this is.
and for the non-ladies, in broader terms, i got my fucking period.
so, safe to say, that put quite the damper on my mood and the cramps nearly took me out. however, strong women never give up. we lay down with heating pads, pop a few advils, and carry on as if armagheddon isn’t happening in our pants.
and that’s exactly what i did.
i took a little snooze, let the advils do their thing, and got ready for my date with mr. closer.
we met at bar56 in dumbo and kicked off the date with a lovely dinner. i will say, after being single and aloof in my own world for so long, it was nice to get out with a man and eat some bomb ass food.
i like to think of dinner dates as a best-case-scenario situation. if he sucks, at least i got a dinner out of it.
but mr realtor? most definitely didn’t suck.
when i tell you this man was chisled from the gods, believe me.
he’s tall, clean cut, dark hair, blue eyes, gorgeous smile, and a sweet personality to boot.
and for most, you’re probably sitting there thinking “yay saige! you did it! you found your king!”
… wrong. fucking wrong. i wanted to run for the hills.
when a man looks too perfect that scares the everliving shit out of me for many reasons. for starters, he could have his choice of any woman he wants and my mind can’t help but think that one day, when i’m older and a bit more wrinkly, he’ll trade me in for a younger version as if i never mattered - because he can with the way he looks.
also, he’s a fucking REALTOR? we’ve all watched selling sunset and seen how everyone sleeps with everyone, right?
you’re telling me this man isn’t getting hounded on the daily by hot female realtors he’s doing deals with? ESPECIALLY in a city like new york? get real.
but, maybe this is my self-doubt kicking in. maybe he does, but maybe he doesn’t engage. maybe he’s too goal driven that females throwing themselves at him isn’t appealing anymore. maybe he really is looking for his forever person too?
saige, get real, you found him on tinder for f*** sakes.
regardless, i worry he’s too hot for me.
and we all know how this will end…
*cough* self-sabotage *cough*
but me being me, i’m deciding to go for it anyways - despite my paranoia that he’s out of my league.
and the fucked up part is, he’s not.
i probably make just as much as he does, i take care of myself, i’m a kind & loving person, have a great family, own my own apartment AND have done a shit ton of inner work to get myself to a place where i do feel worthy of someone at his caliber, so i need to remind myself of this every time the unhealed version of me starts to creep in.
maybe the universe is sending him my way to give me a final tes to see if the work i’ve been doing is actually working, or if i’ll run or self-sabotage as i always do.
only time will tell if i pass the test, so stick around and find out.
anyways, i was awkward as shit for the first few hours because his face had me in such a mesmerizing trance that i forgot what planet i was on for a bit.
the words coming out of my mouth weren’t even making sense, and i RARELY get awkward around men, or anyone for that matter. i consider myself a pretty outgoing person and can talk/engage with almost anyone, but this man sent me to a parallel universe.
eventually, after a glass or two of wine, i got normal again.
and we yapped, a lot. about lots of things. real estate, life, goals, hobbies, you name it.
i had a moment in the bathroom where i looked up at myself in the mirror as i was washing my hands and i thought to myself - well shit, we like him.
and again, my nervous system didn’t know how to feel. because every time we’ve liked someone this quickly and to this extent, it’s never worked out. and besides, my grandma always used to tell me - never choose the one that gives you butterflies.
… ok, but what about the one that makes you speak another language from outer space and forget your own name? what do we do with him?
after changing my tampon (sorry, TMI, get used to it) and doing my hot girl walk back to the table, we finished our wine and he paid for the bill. since it was an early dinner, we decided to grab some ice cream from the brooklyn ice cream factory and walk the pier for a bit.
now, i knew nothing would happen if you know what i mean because aunt flo was crashing the party, and to be quite honest - i didn’t get the vibe that he was pushing for that either.
so, we walked and talked and sat down for a bit before calling it a night and going our separate ways.
it felt very comfortable talking to him, and i felt a sense of ease as if i’ve known him longer than i have. you know those connections that just feel effortless, and you can talk about anything? yeah, that was the energy. for me at least.
he asked if i wanted him to walk me home safe or drive me back to my place, and i politely declined. i never let dates i just met know where i live, because that shit freaks me out. but it was sweet that he offered.
we hugged goodbye (no kiss, even though my ovaries were on the edge of their seat waiting for it) - but it just didn’t feel like the right moment. i got the vibe he was trying to be respectful, and maybe because i declined the ride home he took that as i wasn’t into him.
… shit. now that i type that out and think about it, did i fuck this one up too?
either way, he asked me to text him when i got home safe - and i did.
he responded with: “glad you made it home safe! i had a great time with you tonight saige, and i’d love to see you again. what does next weekend look like for you?”
okay, maybe i didnt mess this up. maybe he really did like me.
… or maybe he’s just trying to close the deal.
i did mention i wanted to sell my house and move in the fall.







wanna take bets on how quickly i'll self-sabotage the shit out of this? if you can relate, i see you. and we have to remind ourselves that we are worthy of love. ❤️
Wow this is lovely nice reads