Nov 282011

 

 

A couple months ago, I went out with a *reasonably* cute guy and we had dinner, good conversation and an altogether *reasonably* okay time. It wasn’t bad at all to be honest and afterward he dropped me off, saying he’d had a great time and he’d call me the next day. I got a few texts from him while he was driving home, typical stuff: “You looked very beautiful across the table from me”, “Nice eyes and smile”, yada, yada. Blah, blah, blah. He said goodnight, promising YET AGAIN to call me the next day . . .

But he did NOT call me the next day.

I didn’t put much stock into it because when a man says “I’ll call you” at the end of a date, it means nothing. It’s just filler speak, like saying “How are you?” to someone when you don’t want a real answer- it fills the silence and makes for a smoother transition from your doorway to his car without him having to hurt your feelings by screaming and breaking into a full speed sprint. It’s just what you say out of habit and smart girls put no stock into it. If I don’t hear from him in three days, I’ll move on and chalk the date up to another waste of a leopard print dress! I won’t even think about it.

By the time I actually heard from this guy, it was two weeks later. That’s right, TWO WEEKS. By this point, I’d already forgotten him and then out of nowhere, he starts texting me! On a *Friday* night! At 7 pm! His actions tell me two things- number one, he was bored and wanted last minute plans . . . and number two, he actually thought I was HOME on Friday night. He’d also NOT been so impressed with me as to scoop me up before some other loser found me and swept me off my feet! In any case, it looked like he’d just saved my number for if he ever got bored!

This offended me. I mean, to the naked eye, I’m a pretty hot commodity, right? 27, no kids, never married, no real baggage whatsoever . . . how often do you come across THAT? Do you know how much could have happened in two weeks? I could have gotten married, I could have gone to space . . . ANYTHING! And then this nitwit (a divorced nitwit with buckteeth and a whole entire daughter) just ASSUMES I’m still single after two whole weeks?! The nerve!

I don’t know why I bothered to text him back at all, but I told him I’d assumed he wasn’t interested and since forgotten about him. This pissed him off royally and he started *screaming* (that is, *text screaming*- all caps): “I WAS TOTALLY INTERESTED, WE HAD A FUCKING GREAT TIME! I TOTALLY WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN, I CAN’T WAIT! DAMMIT, I JUST COULDN’T CALL YOU RIGHT AWAY! I HAVE A FREAKING BUSY LIFE!”

Thus it started. A text fight, a long one. I was out trying to have fun at the Art Walk, and this douchebag I’d met ONCE is trying to have a TEXT FIGHT with me? Really? F’real?

COME ON!

I ignored him, but he was relentless and within an hour I was so annoyed that I went for a walk in the rain- the cobblestone ruined my heels . . . and the rain ruined my dress! THE BASTARD!

By that point, I was furious; I was down one lovely aqua colored dress and one pair of strappy sandals! Now it was SERIOUS! Heads were going to roll.

I let loose on him, I was so angry! He’s “too busy” to call me? Tscha! I sometimes call people from my purse when I don’t even mean to! In fact, my PURSE has been known to update my Facebook Status on its own! On it’s OWN, I tell you! Sometimes my purse spells out actual words . . .

My purse doesn’t even have opposable thumbs!

If my inanimate purse (ALSO READS AS: my deaf, dumb and blind purse) can do all that, then YOU’VE got *two freaking minutes* to call me. Okay?

And I told him all of this, then I turned my phone off to enjoy my evening and the rest of the Art Walk! Then I went home and slept peacefully until about 9 am, when my alarm went off. That’s when twenty two messages all came through, the same kind of useless crap. All about how the phone works *both* ways and I should have called HIM if I wanted to talk! Can you believe the nerve?

I made the mistake of telling him to shut up, which I guess was an open invite for him to send fifty more texts, all angry, all accusing and including the phrases “maniacal egotism”, “get off your pedestal”,  and “the only one who makes sense to you is YOU!”  I was sleepy, still in bed, not responding and to be honest, not paying much attention, but then I got the LAST text:

“So getting to know you is out of the question? You’re done?”

I understood none of that, he lost me back at “I have a freaking busy life.” One almost feels bad for the guy because what he’s done here was sooooooooo stupid, but there is no salvation for him this time. He broke a cardinal rule and gentlemen; you need to learn.  

If you really like a chick and want to talk to her, you should probably call her. Immediately, as soon as possible. See her as soon as you can, stay fresh in her memory! Or she is going to forget you and toss you out with the garbage as soon as she sees you’re past your expiration date!

Godspeed, grasshopper. Go get her.


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