I thought my date had ordered an Uber – then I got in

Kimberley Bond

Published May 16, 2025 7:00pm

Kim Bond - SHDIG he picked up drugs on our date — Kimberley Bond had already fallen for Steven* when they met for a date (Picture: Kimberley Bond)

I felt like I’d been trapped in the trenches for years when it came to dating, but when I looked into those warm brown eyes, it felt as if all the heartbreak and misery had been worth it.

I’d fallen deep – when I felt his soft lips kiss mine, my insides would melt. When he nuzzled my neck, I felt as if my legs could buckle.

I hadn’t been seeing Steven* for long, but after a year of singledom, I had convinced myself that I’d found the one.

Turns out, I’d only fallen deeper into the trenches.

I met Steven on the hellscape of Tinder, back when that was the dating app du jour. He slid into my DMs with conversation that was actually worth pursuing: quick-witted, funny, engaging and interesting – 10 times better than your standard ‘what you up to’ texts (and a million times better than the man whose opening line to me was ‘So, what’s your bra size?’).

I headed to the wine bar that he suggested for our first date with some trepidation – someone this funny surely was going to be a bit of a catfish – but I was pleasantly surprised. Steven looked like his pictures: deep tan, good teeth and a decent hairline, each lock carefully coiffured into a style that was supposed to look effortless.

The only thing that gave me pause was just how unbelievably high-waisted his trousers were, which gave somewhat of a Simon Cowell vibe. It was something my housemate at the time commented on, after I tried to sneak him back to my bedroom after a few drinks (‘Why are his trousers up to his nipples?’ she pointedly asked afterwards).

Thankfully, clothes have a habit of coming off, and by this point I was deep into the dicksand – so much so that I abandoned all attempts of playing it cool when he asked if I was free the following Saturday afternoon for another date.

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When we met on a rooftop bar, immediately I felt as if something was a little off. It wasn’t down to the high-waisted trousers (though he was wearing them again, but this time, a slightly too snug pair of blue jeans).

His energy was slightly nervous, keyed up – I could see beads of sweat pooling in his moustache hair in a way that made my lips curl.

While we talked, he seemed distracted – his eyes kept darting towards his phone.

I started to think I was the problem. Maybe he’d gone off me, or maybe he was awaiting a Tinder message from a better prospect. To quieten the voices of self-doubt in my head, I knocked back mojitos until my vision started to blur and my laugh became obnoxious.

Steven’s phone pinged, and he immediately downed the dregs of his drink, saying he needed to get some cash out and then we could head back to mine.

I leapt up with him, stumbling and slurring as he took out some notes. A silver car pulled up, and we got in.

Naively I assumed this could be our Uber home, so I started rambling nonsense to the driver: ‘Had a busy day, mate? Got lots on?’

Suddenly, I noticed that Steven had pulled out a fistful of crisp £20 notes, in exchange for two small bags of white powder.

My garbled chatter instantly ceased, and I looked at Steven in disbelief. I knew it was better to say nothing until we were safely out of the car. I felt the mojitos evaporate from my body, now stone cold sober.

‘Did you just… did you just take me on a drug deal?’

‘Yeah,’ he said nonchalantly, as if I’d asked him to pass the Cornflakes. ‘I’ve got a night out later.’

I gave him a slightly too-hard playful shove. ‘Aren’t you a lawyer?’

He shrugged, putting the two baggies into his wallet.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a nark or a grass – I didn’t really care whatever pills or powders he was on. You can shove whatever you want up your nose, or down your gullet – just don’t drag me into it.

I have no idea why he did it. A part of me thought it was a misguided attempt to flex. He seemed to walk with a swagger afterwards, as if he’d invented penicillin as opposed to buying some MDMA from someone in a Fiat Punto.

As he sashayed ahead of me, I felt the dicksand I thought I was irrevocably trapped in swiftly be replaced by icksand – I kept thinking about his sweaty upper lip, his stupid high-waisted trousers. I felt the acid in my stomach curdle.

For reasons inexplicable to me (maybe it was the five mojitos, or maybe it was just the calibre of men on Tinder really is that bad), he came back to mine and we had perfunctory missionary sex.

I went and showered afterwards, and then he went to the loo. He left without even looking in my direction to say goodbye – a rookie error on his part, as he didn’t see he’d left his baggies behind on the table.

I was so eager for him to wipe his dick and leave, I didn’t bother to call after him – and he didn’t seem to notice it was missing.

As I relayed this story to my housemates and friends later, a few of the harder partiers asked if they could have the Class As now sat sinisterly in the corner of my room.

I declined, maybe in the deluded hope that Steven would get back in touch. High waisted trousers or not, he was very good looking.

The MDMA stayed in my room, untouched, until I moved in with my new boyfriend some time later. It was unceremoniously flushed.

I never heard from Steven again after that night, the date-turned-drug-deal now something of an urban legend amongst my friends. But I did find myself encountering him once more, years after that ill-fated second date.

As I boredly flicked through Hinge, my mouth fell open when Steven’s familiar face popped up once again. Judging by his profile, Steven is still wearing high waisted trousers, still somehow practising law, and shockingly still single.

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His Hinge prompts say he’s looking for a girl with a ‘sense of adventure’. I’ll say.

In a moment of madness, I thought about his solid head of hair, straight teeth and impeccable chat, and was tempted to swipe right.

Then I remembered the sweaty upper lip, the swagger, the small, sad bags of drugs, and swiped him away.