October 2021 – Rome, Italy

I matched with the Needy Puppy on Tinder on the last day of my Rome Part I trip.  I was heading to Romania early the next day and would be back in Rome 5 days later.

He wasn’t exactly my type, but I had been ebbing and flowing throughout this Tinderalla journey and was very curious about Italian men – the reviews tend to be very mixed (no, I do not base an entire population on some people’s experiences with some men, or even my own … but some stereotypes are rooted in truth).

I told the Needy Puppy I was heading out the next morning, but that I would be back and maybe we could go out then.  He made a big deal of waiting for me to come back and how he would take me out and treat me like a princess (I know some ladies swoon at that… but, it’s an ‘ew’ for me), so I was hesitant, but open.

We exchanged IG info and seemed VERY attractive and adventurous.  We had good banter and he seemed rather enamored with me (I mean, duh) so I agreed to meet up when I returned to Rome.

The day we were supposed to meet up, I reviewed his IG pics and realized I had made a serious rookie mistake – I didn’t confirm his height.

For those that are new here, I have zero shame in my height requirement game. I am very tall myself (and far from small in any direction) so height is a deal breaker for me (I ASSURE you, my soulmate is not under 183cm, no matter how open my mind is… it does not open in a downward trajectory for love outside of friendship).

I did my due diligence, CIA agent, search through his Tinder and IG pics… there was ZERO door frame of reference, no pic standing next to a car, no group pic to indicate small, medium, or average, nada.

So, I asked.

As soon as I started getting hit with the “we will fit so perfect together”, “I am the perfect size to love you”, “I have a big personality”, I knew he was a Shorty McShort.

Sir, how tall are you?
….
……

175cm.

Math is not my strong suit and being a barely graduate of the School of Small Town America, I am not the best at conversion, but I knew 1-SEVEN-anything was too short for my 185cm self.

To be fair and honest, I was upfront with il piccolo uomo, that any dreams he had of this date being anything more than friendly-casual needed to immediately be squashed and if that was problematic, we could cancel or do something more lowkey.

He was insistent that he still wanted to take me out and that he wanted to take me on a tour of the city and then to his favorite bar with “beautiful cocktails”. Unlike the insta-friend Canadian Gold Miner, it was clear that he still thought he had a Hail Mary shot at love (or at least a lusty night)).

After consulting the Board of Directors (group chat) at home, I decided to go anyway.

When in Rome, right??

I agreed to let the Needy Puppy pick me up down the street from my hotel and as I walked down the sidewalk toward where he said he was, a man the stature of my right leg (that is the bigger one) emerged from a car parked on the curb. To be fair, I have some very sizable legs, but they are certainly NOT 175cm, and neither was the Needy Puppy.

At this point, the height/size difference wasn’t even the issue, the “did you not think I would notice??” was.

But, again… when in Rome. 

So, after moving the seat all the way back and my knees still in the dash of the car, we take off on a mini evening tour of Rome. Every time we stopped at an attraction and I turned to look out the window, I realised I was also the attraction… I could FEEL the Needy Puppy ogling at me from the drivers’ seat. Like full stare, zoo animal, Mona Lisa on the wall: stare.  Every time I would turn and side eye the awe struck Puppy he would exclaim how beautiful I was and how in love with me I was… sir, it has been 12 minutes; sit, stay.

I continued to reiterate we were “friends” and that I was not being “cute” as he suggested, and of course he said “yes, yes, I know” (sure).

After taking in a few more sites; me of Rome, him of me, we parked and walked down a cute little street and I was looking forward to the promised “beautiful cocktails”.

As 175cm is to 160cm (approximately), “beautiful cocktails” is to a divey bar and pints of cheap beer.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I LOVE a dive bar and am not adverse to beer whatsoever and actually would have preferred this as a friendly (or even romantic with the right person) plan, had it been presented from the beginning or even discussed before walking in. 

So now we are in this kind of smelly bar, sipping beer, and the Needy Puppy is continually trying to inch closer and closer to me. At one point, he is actually attempting to nuzzle against me. As I am cursing the Board of Directors, who I realise probably promoted this just for the story and some laughs, and damning whoever coined “when in Rome”, the Needy Puppy is attempting to rub my arm while staring up at me.

This is when he was dubbed “The Needy Puppy”… he responded by saying: ohh <giggle> because <giggle> you think I am cute? NO! Sir! because you are essentially humping my leg and whining for attention, while being shooed away.

I told him since he couldn’t stop invading my personal space, I was going to finish my beer and leave.  The Needy Puppy was able to contain his hands long enough to finish our beers and actually have a decent conversation, but I was still done with this encounter and said I would grab an Uber.

He was insistent on driving me back and I was VERY clear that it would be to the same spot he picked me up at and that would be the end of our night, and he agreed.

Ya’ll… I KNEW better (and at this point, most of you do too)

Luckily there was a significant distance between my head and his head, so there was plenty of time to realise he was attempting to boost himself up to go in for a kiss. I just started laughing hysterically, told him this is why he was the Needy Puppy and that he needed to learn commands, and got out of the car.

I took a couple loops around the block before going into my hotel, where I cursed out the Board of Directors as they howled with laughter, cracked too many jokes, and had way too much with this short story.