Tinder will find you. And crush your soul. Well, that’s because you’re required to share your location. Whoops.

But there are some cases in everyday life where you’re going to have run-ins with former digital crushes. When that happens, don’t get scared and blink too fast. They smell fear and drink tears. I know, weird.

My friend recently had a very unexpected digital encounter. What made it more unexpected was that her current boyfriend made the whole situation into - well - a situation.

There was no left swiping out of this one.

The story went like this. Her boyfriend said to come meet him and some friends at a bar. She scurried over for drinks, not knowing she was about to be blindsided by a putrid digital dating underbelly.

You know when you walk into a bar and your head swivels around aimlessly? It’s primal human nature to acclimate yourself to new surroundings. To be a little less scientific, you’re just trying to figure out where the hell your friends are...and your enemies. That’s right, enemies. If you’re a digital dater, start considering every local bar a ruthless digital jungle. You never know if an old OkCupid sweetheart is going to be aiming heart-shaped arrows at your forehead from over by the pool table. Getting hit with one of those would sting in so many different ways.

The point is, my friend had barely swiveled 10 degrees westward before locking eyes with a problem. I say 10 degrees because she obviously had a protractor and compass on her. Not one, but two people she once knew from the digital kingdom were at the bar. She very elegantly mouthed a few words you wouldn’t teach a young child. Hint: one starts with an ‘F’.

She avoided face-to-face conversation by continuing her head swivel another 40 degrees until she found her boyfriend.

The two people she was avoiding were good friends with one of her old digital hookups. She was single at the time and, needless to say, the guy was not enthralled by the idea of her getting back together with her boyfriend. The digital lust ended in cold flames, like most Tinders tend to do. Hence the Tinder app logo.

Back to the bar.

Something strange had just happened. Her boyfriend saw the two digital lepers and shouted, “MY MAN!” Oh no, it was about to go down. Haymakers, right hooks, uppercuts, downercuts, jibs, jabs, and pain. Lots of pain. To her surprise, one of the lepers yelled back with a smile, “DUDE!”

They were friends. This might actually be worse than downercuts and jibs being thrown around. Although it might have been a futile effort from the get-go, her attempts to avoid had been voided. She was forced to engage in conversation.

“Hey there. How’ve you been? How’s work? The family? Tinder? Still ticklish right there?”

Shoot me. Just not with a heart-shaped arrow.