'How my friend and I ended up on the same date (with the same man at the same time).'

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He was messaging us both on different dating apps. He asked us to meet him on the same day, at the same venue, at the same time.

The kicker? He had absolutely no idea we were friends. Or that we were currently sitting at the same table, phones in hand, watching the notifications pop up in sync.

What was the game plan here? Was he going to pull a full Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire and sprint between tables in a wig? Was he hoping for a casual throuple we never consented to?

Honestly, given the current state of the Sydney dating swamp, we weren't even surprised. We were just impressed by the audacity.

So, did he actually show up? What happened when he saw us together? And why has this man now become the divided villain/victim of a viral TikTok?

Watch: Is being in a relationship with an AI about to become… normal unpacked on Mamamia Out Loud. Post continues below.

Let's take it back to the beginning.

I am divorced and dating in my 40s (0/10 stars, do not recommend). I've been on and off the apps for a while. And when I say "off," it's not because I've found 'The One.' It's because of the burnout.

The last six men I've attempted to date from dating apps have either ghosted, pulled out at the eleventh hour, or looked so different from their AI photoshopped photos that I felt like I was being catfished by a literal stranger.

One guy completely stood me up, leaving me waiting at the venue like a person waiting for a bus that was never scheduled to arrive.

In fact, the last decent date(s) I went on was an 'analogue' setup via a friend. Can we please make these a thing again? He was lovely, respectful, and, true to my luck, has since moved overseas.

But it makes me wonder: Was he actually a unicorn, or did he just have social accountability because we shared a mutual friend?

Enter: The Throuple Man.

The calm before the storm… there was literally a storm. It rained a lot. And everything became dramatic. Image: Supplied

We matched on an app. He lived in Northern Sydney, which, if you live in the inner West or East, might as well be another planet. Logistics are the natural enemy of romance.

Since I was heading that way to meet friends anyway, I suggested he join us for a drink. "Bring some friends!" I said. We locked in an early afternoon slot. Easy. Low pressure.

What I didn't know was that my single girlfriend, Dee, had also matched with him on a different app. They'd been chatting, too.

Look, it's a small-ish swamp; overlap is bound to happen. No harm, no foul.

But then, on the morning of our date, he messaged Dee. He asked her to meet him at the exact same bar, at the exact same time as me.

He clearly hadn't inspected her profile closely. There are three photos of us together in it.

We figured there was no way he'd follow through. Surely he'd ghost one of us? That's how low the bar is for men and dating. We literally expect to be stood up.

He did not ghost and we turned it into a reality TV show.

It was an impossible choice (not to) document in real time. For the people… Image: TikTok @annaliese_todd.

He continued to message us both simultaneously, confirming he was on his way to meet us both… separately.

Naturally, I did what any self-respecting storyteller in 2026 would do: I hit record. I started documenting the car crash in real-time for TikTok.

Because if I'm going to be part of a dating circus, I'm at least going to be the ringmaster.

The video started to pop off. People were invested, but also divided.

A lot of comments claimed he hadn't done anything wrong. "He's just being efficient with his time!" they said. "Neither of you are in a relationship with him and he's playing the field. What's wrong with that?" another user commented.

Call me old-fashioned, but I tend to disagree. Yes, we're all single. No, there's no exclusivity expectations at all.

But trying to juggle two women at the same time at the same venue like a vaudeville act is not cool. And it's an ick that cannot be un-icked. And just bad manners really.

The TikTok video that launched a thousand opinions… Source: TikTok @annaliese_todd. Post continues below.

@annaliese_todd

From the dating files that is the swamp in Sydney…. #dating #datingswamp #Sydneydatingswamp

♬ original sound - AnnalieseTodd

The death of the "meet cute".

I re-entered the dating bin fire over three years ago. The last time I was single, I was 24. I was an embryo. Back then, the dating pool was... everyone. You met people by actually speaking to them. IRL (can you imagine?).

Now? The pool is a murky, infested swamp. We gauge chemistry based on a backlit screen and give people approximately 3.5 seconds to grab our interest before we swipe.

We've become commodities. We've dehumanised the process so much that we forget there's a living, breathing person on the other side of the profile.

The confrontation (with some questionable shoes).

What. Are. These. Shoes. Image: TikTok @annaliese_todd

Throuple Man finally arrived. He walked in, saw us sitting together, and to his credit, he didn't run.

Although looking at his shoes, he could have run up a rocky mountain with ease. I should caveat I did not reveal his identity or his face, only his questionable shoes.

I am nothing else; but a boots-on-the-ground, serious investigative journalist, with integrity.

I asked him point-blank: "What was the game plan here? Were you going for the full Mrs. Doubtfire?"

He said he was. It was a large venue; he figured he'd bounce between the two of us.

I thanked him for at least having the stones to walk up to us instead of bolting out the fire exit. But then I gave it to him straight: "You've told me everything I need to know about you. We aren't interested."

You'll be relieved to know, there were no hearts broken in the making of this reality TV show (Sisterwives). Dee was not fussed, not even a bit.

But for me? It was the final straw.

It officially vanquished my last remaining "single f*ck." Between the string of last fizzlers, failures, Throuple Man and another dude who ghosted me two nights later, I'm done with holding back.

When you are consistently treated without respect, it takes a toll. But I've reached a new level of Teflon and intolerance. These stories need to be told.

If being "loud" about the absolute state of dating helps other women feel seen while exposing the bad behaviour keeping the wrong ones away? Brilliant.

Game on, molls.

Feature Image: Supplied.