Culture: The Vino Swindler: A Serial Dater’s Unlucky Brush with a Wine Tinder Swindler

Two months before The Tinder Swindler was released on Netflix, I had my own run-in with a “diamond-exporting,” truth-bending, wine-stealing date.

Leandro was Italian-Brazilian with short salt-n-pepper hair, dark eyes and an attentive personality. Initially attracted to his persistence, his knowledge of Puglia and the prospect of trips to Rio, I matched with him and we chatted for two days before he claimed to be an heir to a diamond mine… excuse me! This is new. Living in the Bay Area, my world sometimes intersected with the wealth of tech and new money, but rarely did I meet someone with an occupation worthy of a Bond villain. I couldn’t resist his invitation to Zuni, a local institution in San Francisco.

I was running early—well, I was on time, so, early for a Tinder date—and got seated alone upstairs near the window overlooking Rose Street. I ordered a glass of Les Beaux Fougets for $20. Delicately sipping, I anxiously waited for Leandro. More than a few “almost there” texts later, he finally called to say he wasn’t allowed in—he forgot his proof of vaccination.

No amount of pleading or begging could get him a seat inside or out, so I abandoned my barely touched cup of Burgundy to find a restaurant that would serve us (in San Francisco in those days it was nearly impossible to find a wine bar that did not demand vaccination cards). Walking down Gough and up to Hayes, I thought to myself, “This is weird; who doesn’t have a picture of their vaccine card?” But weary from the punishing cycle of late-30s dating, I soldiered on.

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We finally chose a nondescript Italian restaurant with a parklet and a decent wine list, though I was disappointed I missed out on the wood-fired chicken for two at Zuni. We ordered a small consolation burrata and a Brunello di Montalcino. As the hints of cherries, blackberries, spice and leather warmed my palate, my suspicions about Leandro began to wane. He spoke of his Jewish-Italian father fleeing Europe, only to settle in Brazil and become a successful diamond mogul; he shared pictures and videos of himself at diamond conventions, while explaining the modern mining practices. With a glimmer of truth cutting the air of doubt that clung to his backstory, I asked myself, “Could he be for real?”

Now as tipsy as I was hopeful, I excused myself from the table. When I returned, it was to a stunning scene. Late on a Wednesday night in the middle of the pandemic, there were no other diners braving the cold and neither was Leandro. My bag hung carelessly from the chair; my jacket had fallen into a crumpled pile on the floor and the check sat on the tabletop.

Resigned to having been ditched, I listlessly sipped a final glass of prosecco decidedly forlorn at another dating disaster when Leandro reappeared, wild-eyed and antagonistic. “This is ridiculous!” he said. “My card was declined! Look!” As he thrust an ATM balance inquiry receipt into my face with “$2,757,488.04” typed across it, Leandro spit, “I can’t believe it!” But I certainly could. A date with an imposter may have cost me $170 and possibly a swiped Chase card, but hey! At least the wine was good.

This article originally appeared in the October 2023 issue of Wine Enthusiast magazine. Click here to subscribe today!

Last Updated: October 9, 2023