A while back, in March, before I abandoned this blog (TMI Journal? Doesn’t quite have the same ring to it) I mentioned something about going on a date with a man from OkCupid. I feel confident in calling him a man, because he was 33, employed, had manners, and could string together a sentence. The bar sadly isn’t all that high to manhood boys, so don’t be afraid to jump on over! I believe I also mentioned something about sharing the “horrific details”.
Well, I’m sorry to disappoint all of you…but things actually worked out! We’re a couple now!
KIDDING! I really had you there for a second! Ha! Me, go on a date with a guy that actually ends up working out? You’re all at the wrong blog if that’s the kind of garbage you want to read about. There will be none of that here, thank you very much.
So, PNB (Potential New Boyfriend, thanks Dolly! How terrible is that video? I can’t tell if it’s a fan video or an actual video) and I had exchanged quite a few messages over OkC, when I finally asked him if he would be interested in meeting up. He gave me his phone number and told me to give him a text after the weekend and we would figure out a day. We decided on a Tuesday evening and I picked the place: Stand Burger. I figured if this date is terrible, at least I would get a decent burger and some fried pickles out of it. In all honesty, the date was not bad. There were no awkward silences, he was cute, he liked Deep Space 9, and was originally from Canada. He didn’t dress like he dug his clothes out of the dumpster in Seattle in 1995. In other words…I was banking on living in bliss watching DS9 and receiving socialized health care. Basically…MY DREAM. We talked a lot and after dinner he asked if I wanted to get some coffee and walk around. We walked around for two hours. He also got annoyed at slow walkers that were in front of us and continued to charm his way into my cold, blackened heart. Eventually we parted ways at the subway (not of the sandwich variety) and he told me he would give me a call during the weekend. Score!
So the next day, I do that thing that I think most people do after a successful first date, (or maybe it’s just me. I haven’t really taken a poll on it) I called a wedding planner! Kidding. Again! I’m really confusing ya’ll out there, aren’t I?! I told you it was going to be a little different around here! On the real though, I sent him a text saying that I had a good time and that hopefully we would be able to meet up again soon. I didn’t hear back from him until two days later! People are so bad at texting. Well, I should clarify: People are bad at responding to my texts. Assholes. He said in so many words, ‘Meaghan! I had a good time too. I will call you this weekend.” Faith restored.
Sunday rolls around. I haven’t heard from PNB yet. Things are starting to look bad. I go out to dinner with my friend Nola, we end up getting three free desserts because our waiter was feeling generous. It was pretty awesome. I’m walking back to the subway and I get a text from PNB asking if I’m busy. I tell him that I’m about to get on the train, but I should be home in around half an hour. I’m positively giddy! It’s pathetic. Truly pathetic. I get home, I get another text a little while later asking if I’m still up. Indeed I am sir, indeed. I. am. The phone rings! We’re chit chatting about the day for like five minutes when he lays it on me. “Well, I just wanted to call you to let you know that I don’t think we’re going to go out again”. Oh, okay? “I just didn’t feel like there was much of a connection”. Um, alright? “I felt like you deserved a call”. Sure, yeah, no problem. “Well, have a good rest of the night”. You too. “I’ll talk to you later”. UH NO YOU WON’T. CLICK. I didn’t say that last part, but I was definitely thinking it. “I’ll talk to you later, even though I will never be seeing you again. Have a nice night! Now that it’s been ruined by the weirdest phone call ever”.
I was basically dumped after one date you guys. I’d say after one date, if you don’t like the person, you don’t continue to drag it out via text message and hope-filled ‘I’ll call you this weekends’. After one date, it’s perfectly acceptable to just ignore a text message. Right? Or is that just something I’ve made up in my mind? I’m pretty sure it’s not. And if it was, there is no way that I am ever wrong. Like, ever. The best part of this whole thing, is that I couldn’t even be mad or upset about it, because he was so fucking nice on the phone. You never want to see me again? Well, when you put it that way…I totally get it! It’s fine! I wouldn’t want to see me again either. Enjoy your night!
It was weird you guys. Getting dumped by phone after one date is not something I want to experience again. I’d rather they just not respond to my next day ‘Good Times’ text message. Maybe I need to stop sending that? Let them tell me how great the date was via text message the next day. I have a feeling my phone will not be bombarded with texts of that variety. What is a woman in her mid-twenties to do?!
Also, don’t worry your precious little hearts, I’ve got a few more date stories to enchant you all with. You’ll just have to stick around. Bring friends. Is there something you want me to talk about? Leave it in the comments. It doesn’t hurt as much when we’re all laughing together.
::picture from: comicartfans::