So, things came to the ultimate WTF on Thursday night with Mr. No 2nd Date.
Reva…(you’re surely thinking), you sit here and spew all this garbage at us about learning your lesson, and how much older and wiser you are and yet, here we are. Tolerating bullshit far longer than necessary.
Let’s get everyone up to speed.
I met him around New Year’s Eve when I was sort of dating someone else and didn’t think much of us exchanging numbers. How often do people you meet at bars actually wind up wanting to see you again?
But, we did see each other again, a few weeks later, after I was finished with other dude. We had one four-hour date and since then it’s been odd, to say the least. I was never that invested, but on Thursday night I was just fed up and had to make sure that was clear. Being passive aggressive was not the way to go.
It was literally strike three.
Strike one was that we had made plans to go out but he canceled on me because it was “too fucking cold.”
Strike two was when I invited him to come out and join my friends and me on a Saturday night.
The following ensued over text message:
Me: Where are you?
Him: Just at my place.
Me: Want to come out for a drink?
Him: Very, very tempting. Gimme a few. Where are you?
Me: Huettenbar on Linclon
Him: I’m gonna pass tonight. Couch feeling too good. Lemme know if you wanna do anything fun tomorrow.
Um, okay, so in a split second he went from yes to no. Odd, but whatever, maybe he really was tired. (God, I sound like Dionne from Clueless)
Me: Whatever you don’t like me have a nice life.
Him: Oh come on
(Okay yes, maybe that was over-dramatic, but I’m not an idiot!)
Me: First it was too cold, now this, I’m not an idiot. (SEE!)
Then after a week or so of radio silence, I start getting random Saved by the Bell quotes. (We spent far too much time talking about that, and the Mighty Ducks).
Then, strike three occurred. We had plans to meet for a drink on Thursday. I had asked when/where and got “I dunno, somewhere in Wrigleyville. Same answer as last time. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
My response? “Hmmm that sounds like code for you are canceling.”
Him: No I won’t we’ll grab a drink.
This was Wednesday night. I didn’t hear from him all day Thursday until he texted me around 6pm to tell me what bar he was at. Even though we hadn’t set a time or place. I was still at work so asked if we could meet around 8pm and he said sure, but that he might be at a different bar. Okay, fine.
At 7:41, I text him: okay, where am I meeting you?
Him: wherever you want
Me: Well, where are you right now?
Him: Sluggers (p.s. this is not the place for a date. This is where you go for Dance Party USA after consuming 15 Old Styles at a Cubs game)
Me: How about Vines at 8?
…..Now it gets interesting……
Him: Um, did you read what I just wrote? I’m leaving and going home. Very tired, don’t wanna be hungover tomorrow. Normally I would say fine.
Me: No, I read that you said you would meet me whatever (that should have said WHEREVER), I knew you would do this, don’t ever text me again.
Him: Vines tomorrow for sure. I’m hear (UGH FAIL FAIL FAIL) and was totally willing to meet you – didn’t know you couldn’t make it til 8. I was picturing like a right-after-work couple drinks type of thing
Me: Well you should have fucking said that yesterday and I already have plans tomorrow and this is the second time you have done this so Fuck off.
Annnnnnnnnnnnnd this is why I’m single.
A Series of Very Bad Decisions 