This week we are excited to feature the seventh edition to a series of short stories written by local www.keepportlandsexy.com writer Colette Pomerleau. Throughout this series she colorfully describes the experiences we all have when dabbling in the world of Tinder, and explores the short stories those encounters perfectly procure.

#7 the Pink Room

I had this thought before and after we had our date, that I’m just now realizing how temporary closeness can be.

We both knew of each other through mutual friends of mutual friends of mutual friends. By the time we met up, I was so bored of beginnings at a bar with the same conversations. I insisted on bringing watercolor paints so it felt like we were both having a brand new experience.

Still, we met at a nice neighborhood bar, which was something that made me feel uneasy. I was convinced we would be distracted by familiar faces and have to do that thing where we pretend like we’re not doing what we’re doing. There was a past first-date-only sitting at the bar, and his eyes alternated between our table and the booze bottles. My prediction was correct, but it wasn’t really that distracting at all. You were attentive and charming and very tall.

I painted a pink room after you told me about a lady you met in Europe. You went home with her and everything was pink and it turned you off. There’s something about bright colors that make you feel like you’re with someone very young. You gave your abstract painting to the bartender after he came over to tell us about how much his daughter loved to paint too. I wanted it, but didn’t want to be dramatic. It was time to go somewhere else.

We stopped at your house for a second to grab a blanket, just in case we wanted to lay somewhere outside. I saw your room and wondered why. We walked back to my car and you kissed me for the first time on the porch, which was comforting more than surprising. While brainstorming about where to head next, I noticed this fire of total engagement in your eyes. We had that moment of closeness.

I think we ended up stopping in front of someone’s house because we were too lazy to find any lookout spot with a nice view. I pulled over because I thought it would be cool to make out near some palm trees. It’s like we’re on an island vacation, a spontaneous holiday with a stranger. The entire idea was better in my head, because your legs were too long for my back seat and it was a strange thing to do this when we both had our own bedrooms. By the time we stopped, it was appropriate to end everything else. I dropped you off at your car and felt so young.

Click here to read the full series!