You guys have read about my adventures in e-dating and have clearly noticed the fact that few dudes last past three or four outings. One time I met a dude off the internet, and he was actually pretty cool. Attractive, smart, fun in bed; the trifecta of a good time. He was going to be leaving end of January for military shit overseas and things were flowing appropriately for that type of separation to be looming in the future. While it seemed like something legit could result, I wasn’t worried about it; I figured he’d leave and that would be the end of that.
I left town for New Years, and our communication became increasingly infrequent. This was the kind of guy whose phone died while he was out with friends so he borrowed his friend’s phone to keep texting (and then call) me; not responding to a text letting him know I was back in town for several weeks seems like a textbook case of loss of interest to me.
I’m a strong believer that ladies should not chase men or buses. When dudes flake I wind up putting all that energy into getting shit done. DMAC, m’dears. I was bummed that I didn’t get the last few weeks of quality romping out of it, but that was about it.
Until the Mormon (okay – former Mormon, but it’s what he’s being referred to for storytelling purposes) sent me a text in response to the last thing I had sent him a few weeks prior. Guys out there, that’s some super ballsy shit to try to pull with any girl. We always remember how long it’s been since the last time we spoke, and you acting like you haven’t been ignoring us adds insult to injury. So I sent him a sassy message which pretty clearly let him know to fuck off.
I think it’s pretty clear from that text how I feel: not into it. So him getting sassy back was at the least, unexpected. So I went the extra mile, linking The Oatmeal’s list of commonly misspelled words.
Well at least he sort of got the message about the misspelled words thing. Except not. I’m not even going into the implication that I was referring to myself as large.
As far as I can tell there’s only a few cardinal sins in the Kingdom of Manhood. One of them is leaving yourself open to insults regarding your mother. Trust me, I came up with some fucking doozies. Why I decided to take the high road is beyond me, but I missed out on a great opportunity to unleash the fury on this dude.
A three text follow up, all within seconds of each other. Really? Yeah, really. The rest of the exchange pretty well speaks for itself, I think.
C’mon Mormon boy, no dude in their 20′s goes over a week without looking at their phone. If he had missed it surely his message to me would not have been a response to to it. A “sorry I blew you off” or even an “I’ve been super busy”–fine! It’s just… I hate rude, indirect people. A couple weeks is some ‘go fuck yourself’ shit, IMO. But he wasn’t done yet! Oh no.
This whole exchange was already super funny. Did anyone else’s eyebrows go up at that last text? More importantly, do dudes really say shit like that? This is the type of thing I would expect out of the mouth of a mildly psychotic emotional masochist… see also: girl. It’s one thing to play games, but the “I’m testing you to see if you really like me” thing went out with high school & having sex in the front seats of compact cars as far as I’m concerned.
On the offhand chance that I was doing that whole “crazy ass chick” thing without realizing it, I related the whole exchange to three of my straight guy friends. The overall response seems to be that none of the guys I asked about all this will ever date me for fear of losing an argument to me, and that his goodbye schpiel borders on fag-like. Sounds like a pretty fair assessment to me.
At this point I figured the Mormon was done; he’d told me off via text message and now I could delete his number from my phone… except he called me the next afternoon. In retrospect I should’ve just let the call hit voicemail but I figured it would at least be funny… and it was.
He proceeded to apologize for not calling me for several weeks, told me I was “really cool” and that he enjoyed all the time we had spent together. Most of this conversation was a litany of excuses, so let me throw out the two highlights.
- Me: “So you blow me off for two weeks and then apologize, following a text telling me how apologies are never sincere. You realize you look like a total tool right now, right?”
Mormon: “Yeah but it wasn’t that I blew you off… I just forget to call people. So when I don’t hear from anyone for a while I realize I haven’t returned any calls or texts. But really, I feel bad. I apologize.”
Me: “Just so you know, regardless of how casual a situation you’re in there’s still a certain amount of etiquette required. Not talking to a girl for a few weeks that you were sleeping with, then hitting her up while drunk to argue is not saying anything to me except that you’re hard up for sex before you ship out.”
Mormon: “I am not hard up for sex, thank you.”
Hung yourself with that one, buddy. Have fun with whatever five you’ll be boinking until you leave. Best of luck in Afghanistan by the way. Avoid those land mines, chicks are rarely willing overlook when you’re missing both a leg and manners.