Kendall Tinston
Well, friends, here we are once again. The best way to face your fears is to just dive head first, right? No? Let’s pretend that’s true, and let’s get down to calling out our favorite female horror villains and their dating app personas for this week’s terrifying dating adventure.
Samara: The Goth Chick
You’re the ripe age of 21, recently dumped by your girlfriend who found a clean cut new guy at Princeton, and looking to finally have some fun now that you can go out and drink. After a few nights of downing far too many pitchers of cheap beer with your friends and not finding anyone who peaked your interest, you drunkenly download OKCupid. Your best friend has boasted what a good hook up app it is, and let’s be honest: at 21 you’re not looking for your future wife yet. You don’t even have a real career. The app is chock full of young blondes who look like your ex, and you can’t swipe left fast enough. Suddenly, you’re stopped in your tracks when you come across Samara. Her long, black hair, fair complexion, and dark eye makeup are the complete opposite of what you’re used to, and to be honest you’re more into the dark and brooding type than you expected. You swipe right and nothing happens. Disappointed in her not liking you, you roll over and go to sleep. At 6 AM you wake up with a pounding headache and a painfully full bladder. You run to the bathroom and get back into bed, but you can’t go right back to sleep. You look at your phone and see OKCupid says you matched with Samara. Who? You open her profile and a surge of memories from your drunken search for a quick and easy hook up comes back to you. You message her a cool, “Hey beautiful,” and the conversation begins. After a full day of chatting, you ask if she wants to come over to your place. She mentions that she wants to meet in person somewhere and see where it goes, to which you oblige. She picks a petting zoo nearby, which seems like a surprising move considering her dark and ominous demeanor, but you set up plans the next day to meet her there. When you arrive it’s a whopping 95 degrees and you worry that wearing a gray t-shirt was a bad move. You wait outside of the petting zoo for a minute and then you see Samara approaching you. She is wearing a long, lace black dress with lace gloves and has her dark thick hair covering most of her face. You’re clearly a sweaty mess and you’re wondering how she hasn’t passed out yet in her outfit, but she looks the perfect mix of creepy, beautiful and mysterious. The conversation is meager, and she does not talk much. Instead, she watches the animals with an intense gaze. You take note of the animals walking to the other side of their pens when you two come around, and to be honest it creeps you out. You’re almost ready to give up and go home when you reach the horses. Samara aims her creepy gaze at the two beautiful dark colored horses and mumbles something whispery under her breath. Both horses whinny and rear up in a terrified manner, and one kicks the pen surrounding them. You’re worried they may break their enclosure and take off when you pull her away from the animals entirely. Once you get her away from the spooked horses, you try to politely say goodbye. She doesn’t say much in response, but she reaches into her pocket to grab something. She grabs your hand and positions it so it’s ready to receive something. She then takes a long, wet strand of her dark hair from her pocket and places it into your hand. “See you in seven days,” is the last thing she says before aimlessly wandering into a large field. You watch her, wondering what the fuck she meant by that, and it seems almost as if at one point she glitches right before your eyes and ends up across the field in a fell swoop. You drop the hair and run to your car. There is not enough Purell in the world to cleanse you after that nightmarish date.
Carrie: The Mysterious One
After your run in with a potential demon devil worshipper named Samara, you decide to go back to your roots and channel your inner Christian via Christian Mingle. You’ve graduated college and finally have an adult job, plus your parents would be so proud if you formed a connection with a wholesome religious girl. You go on dates with a few different young women from the app, and while nice conversations occurred, no sparks were felt. You stop in your tracks when you see Carrie. She has the most stunning bright red long hair and the sweetest smile. You message her immediately and are thrilled when she responds. You two hit it off and have multiple conversations, even some over the phone, before meeting. She is so kind and so soft-spoken and you feel a potential spark whenever you see her name pop up on your phone. You want to do it right this time, and you plan a nice dinner date for you and Carrie tomorrow night at a steakhouse nearby. You tell her to wear her best dress, and try to express how excited you are to finally see her. She shares the same sentiment, and you can hardly sleep the night before. It’s the night of, and you decide to wear a nice suit to dinner in attempts to impress her. You pick her up and your jaw drops. She is wearing a flawless pink silk gown that compliments her loosely curled red locks. You give her a bouquet of flowers, open the door for her, and head to the steakhouse. The ride over and beginning of dinner she is very quiet and nervous, but you’re not too surprised. You do your best to make her comfortable and she begins to open up as the night progresses. You two talk about your family, and she mentions that she lost her mom, her only parent, as a teenager. She also lost her short-term boyfriend at the same age. She has experienced immeasurable loss and still seems to be a strong, independent woman and you have the utmost respect for her. You order a fancy bottle of wine that you two share and she clearly appreciates the gesture. When your food comes, her steak looks amazing and you regret ordering the pork chops. She picks up her utensils to start eating and drops her knife. When she does, her wine glass gets sloshed and some dark red wine splashes onto her dress. She leans over slightly to pick up her knife, frustrated, and you can swear she did not bend over fully to retrieve it, almost as if it floated back up to her. You decide you must have had too much wine. Once you start eating, you offer her a bite of your dish, and she mentions she doesn’t eat pork. She twitches a little when she mentions that she has an aversion to pigs. After what was mostly a wonderful evening, you drive her home. You mention what a good time you had when stopped at a red light, and when it turns green you continue your drive. Out of nowhere, a car runs the red light and is headed straight towards you. Carrie raises her hands and the car blows out of the street and rolls multiple times on the grass alongside it. She stares it down and it bursts into flames. Multiple cars pull over and the police rush to the scene. They ask for your witness account and you give cryptic answers, because honestly who knows what the fuck just happened. Once you finally take Carrie home, you’re not sure what to say, so instead you just open her door, walk her to her house, then go home and stare at a wall blankly for a few hours, unsure of what that girl even was.
Rose Armitage: The Rich, White Racist
Years have passed and you’re a working professional in New York City by now. You’re out to lunch with your friend and co-worker Brian who mentions a dating app he recently downloaded where he found a sugar momma. The phrase creeps you out, as it always has, but you decide to ask for more details. It’s called The League, and it’s for both wealthy professionals as well as hot but not-so-wealthy singles. Brian pushes you to download it and sign up, and you eventually do. You get put on their waiting list with a few thousand others on it and you roll your eyes at how elitist this whole thing seems. Two weeks later, while you’re at work, you hear a ding on your phone. A notification reads, “Welcome to The League, activate your profile!” After a moment of wondering what the hell The League is, you remember it’s that snobby dating app that Brian is so obsessed with, and you begin setting up your profile. You’re busy at work and you rush to put one together, only adding one photo that has both you and Brian in it, since he’s the reason you joined this dumb app anyway. You get back to work and soon enough your phone is blowing up. On this app, anyone can message you, and apparently you are cougar chow. Multiple older women are reaching out to you, commenting on your looks, and their profiles each show how much they make yearly. You start wondering how Brian found a woman his age on this app, and just when you are about to try out being a cub for the first time ever, Rose messages you. It’s a simple message, but holy shit is she beautiful. She’s a young professional with the prettiest smile and kind eyes. You disregard all of the older women who are vying for your attention and start messaging Rose. You learn that she also thinks this app is dumb, but she comes from a wealthy family who insisted she try it out. You two click instantly, and she makes plans to meet you in a few hours at a bar for a drink. It’s moving pretty quickly, but she seems way cooler than anyone you’ve dated in months, so you agree. After you rush to get ready that night, you head to the bar she’s chosen. It’s a fancy, modern cocktail bar with more than enough blue lighting and white marble. You see her at the bar and you wave as you start to walk over. She looks around, seemingly confused, and when you get over to her she says, “Dave?” as if she doesn’t recognize you. You respond that it is in fact you that’s meeting up with her, and she apologizes for asking, but seems agitated. Weird, but you choose to disregard this minor slip up. You sit next to her and the date begins. She is drinking a cocktail called the Froot Loop, and it’s apparently a special here. It’s blue and smells like the cereal but is really just a mix of different sweet alcohols. You order a beer and notice that while you’re trying to get to know her, she’s scanning the bar behind you. You eventually ask if she’s looking for someone, and she responds in a very curt manner, “So is your black friend not coming?” Taken aback, you try to figure out what she’s talking about before answering. “Brian?” you respond, to which she says, “On your profile. The other guy in the photo, I thought he was you. But I guess he’s Brian.” You realize what’s happening and kick yourself for only putting up one photo, especially one with another guy in it. Nevertheless, she’s being rude about it, and in your defense she didn’t ask on the app which one you were. “Yeah, that’s my friend Brian. I didn’t realize you didn’t know that I wasn’t him.” She sighs, clearly annoyed, and says, “I just don’t think it’s smart to have one picture with someone else in it on your page. And black guys are just more my type.” She keeps scanning the room and you wonder if you should leave, “Well, I’m very white, so I guess that’s a bummer.” She keeps looking everywhere but at you, and then locks eyes with someone behind you. You look back and see a young, handsome African American man just walked in. She takes money out to pay for her cocktail and turns to you, “Black men are just…so much more genetically desirable.” You’re dumbfounded, and you watch her walk straight over to the poor unsuspecting man she locked onto the second he walked in. You walk past them on your way out and hear her say to him, “I couldn’t help but notice how fit you are. Do you play basketball?” You can’t hold back anymore, and you blurt out, “Look out, she’s a rich, white racist” on your way out.
As always, readers, I had so much fun writing this piece for you, and please comment any other characters you may want me to write about if I haven’t covered your favorite yet! Happy Sunday and stay spooky.
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