While, sure, we all know that, these days, a “woman” never knows who might sexually assault her with the concealed perversions of “men” being at constant play (though certainly not the eighteen to twenty-five set, what with their intense interest in screens and the shift toward how much more disposably “women” get treated than ever before), there’s something more than a bit callow about the type to bring a group of friends on a Tinder date. For one, the “man” in question is already easily discombobulated enough what with being more monosyllabic than your average gender (of which there are both many and none during these twenty-first century times). For another, he’s probably (if he knows what’s good for him) going to pay for your shit in the hopes of banging you, and by bringing other parties, you’re making it impossible for him to assess the situation from a financial approach.
In your faux superior attempt to gauge if a “man” is good enough for you by bringing your fellow hens to appraise him, you’re automatically establishing yourself as the true cunt rag diva you are–and all because your parents never told you otherwise, that you’re nothing just like the rest of us. The least you could do as an adequate user of an app designed to further send monogamy into tatters is not act in a manner that only makes “men” not so undercoverly despise the “female” collective at large even more (especially when they’re being too “mean” to them on Facebook). But no, you need your goddamn peanut gallery under the guise of being “too afraid” to meet a “guy” alone, when we all know they can be taken down with a swift kick to the place where their wang is supposed to be if the occasion for it arises. As it usually does for his mere being, in which case, one supposes you are going to want a friend there to film it.
Missing A Clit 