The Grand Gesture That Led Nowhere
When my date rounded the corner, squinting as if verifying I matched my Instagram photos, two thoughts raced through my mind. First, he indeed looked like his profile—lean, tanned, tall, with the distinct posture of a mixed martial arts fighter. Second, I couldn't believe he had actually shown up. I had only met *Finn online seven days prior, yet here he was after a six-hour bus journey to meet me—a gesture most men wouldn't make even across town.
Naturally, I wondered if this grand effort signified something meaningful. My knowledge of him was limited to social media: 30,000 followers, a professional demeanor, and over 100 shirtless photos. Our interaction began when I slid into his DMs during a holiday in Istanbul, though he had initiated by liking some of my posts—professional swimsuit shots and editorial photos designed to attract attention.
From Digital Flirting to Real-Life Plans
Admittedly, I had stalked his profile months earlier, but now the attraction seemed mutual. In the world of modern dating, nothing screams 'fated connection' like mutual thirst and algorithmic horniness. I messaged, 'Are you Thailand-based?' as I was heading to Phuket the following week. Finn replied immediately, 'I'm in Koh Samui right now.'
We exchanged messages and voice notes, with him even sending shirtless selfies, one captioned, 'Now say goodnight to me.' Typically, such behavior would have given me the ick, but I confused momentum for connection, so I let it slide. Then, Finn surprised me with a proposal: 'Don't waste time in Phuket, come to Samui on Wednesday.'
I explained that Phuket was merely a stopover before my flight home to Australia, to which he responded, 'Let's make your two nights in Phuket unforgettable then.' Assuming it was all talk, I played along with flirty messages about 'waiting many sunrises' for him. Predictably, I heard nothing for three days afterward and shrugged it off as typical dating behavior.
The Unexpected Arrival
The day before my flight to Phuket, he reappeared: 'Sorry, been sick. What time do you land?' I replied, '3 p.m.,' already planning a solo dinner. But upon landing, another message awaited: 'I'm on my way too. See you at 7:30 p.m.' I froze in panic, sending screenshots to my group chat for advice.
'You were too sweet. He thinks it's on,' one friend explained. When I asked, 'Would a man really travel six hours for sex?' her simple answer was yes. We devised an exit strategy—the reliable 'I'm on my period'—to avoid going further than comfortable. All that remained was to meet him.
A Date Devoid of Spark
When we locked eyes outside my hotel, I hoped for fireworks, love at first sight, or a romantic ending to justify the bus ride and flirting. Instead, there was nothing. We shared a brief hug that acknowledged the situation without pretending it was profound.
Finn had already checked into a nearby hotel, a quiet relief. He suggested dinner, and I followed, hoping chemistry might arrive late like checked luggage. At dinner, we skipped separate plates, opting to share dishes like a nauseating couple, yet there was no real intimacy—no brush of hands or lingering eye contact.
Conversation was stilted; Finn discussed his family in Sydney, trying to connect, then shifted to his seven fights for One Championship in the ring. When I asked why a teammate had viewed my story, he laughed, explaining, 'He asked why I was going to Phuket instead of training. I told him I had a date with you. He saw your profile and said, 'Fair enough, off you go.'' That ended the topic.
The Awkward Goodbye
After dinner, we ended up at my hotel room because Finn needed the bathroom, and his hotel was 15 minutes away. I kept an open mind—he had been polite and normal. I ushered him onto the balcony, a safe distance from the bed, signaling that 'unforgettable' wasn't happening horizontally.
We kissed, hardly romantic amid second-hand smoke from a joint, but it wasn't the worst kiss I'd ever had. Eventually, he pulled back and suggested going to bed. Disappointment struck—men really can travel six hours for sex. I gently said, 'Not tonight,' suggesting we had more days together. He accepted, brushed my lips, and said, 'Goodnight, my beauty.'
I was relieved he didn't push but mildly offended he didn't linger—no chatting or enjoying the scenery after his long journey. I remained open to seeing him again, believing chemistry might warm up slowly. He mentioned training at a friend's gym, so I waited to hear from him the next day, but even my story views went quiet.
Lesson Learned
Staring at my phone, I felt unsurprised yet disappointed. While I knew our date wasn't a success, I had hoped Finn saw more in our flirtationship than a quick shag. Clearly, he viewed his six-hour bus ride as a wasted journey. The lesson for both of us: grand gestures don't always lead to happy endings, whatever we were after.
*Name has been changed
