In which we discuss total incompetence

Picture it: Newport Beach, last Saturday (I’m watching a Golden Girls marathon right now so forgive me for channeling Sophia).

Anyway:

You’re hanging out in a bar with your good friend when a random dude and his friend approach you. Eventually random dude tells you that he wants to take you on a date that week (as long as you’re not under 30, because he doesn’t date women under 30). Okay, cool. Sounds great.

The next day you get a “nice to meet you” text but nothing else. Okay, so maybe the date isn’t happening. No big deal. You’re slightly curious as to why he would even text you to begin with if he either 1) didn’t remember you as you suspected he wouldn’t or 2) decided thanks but no thanks. But you should probably check your curiosity at the door.

The day after THAT, at 7:15 pm, you get another text asking if you want to come over THAT night for pizza and a movie. For a first date. At a total stranger’s apartment. Yeah, that sounds like a plan, broseph. So, you decide to just not even dignify that question with a response by literally not responding.

Two days later, you get another text from random dude asking why he didn’t hear from you and you’re all, “because that is NOT the way to ask someone out on a date,” all up on your soapbox of Please Put in the Slightest Modicum of Effort, I’m Begging You.

Random dude tries again and you agree to go out the next night. He’ll call you when he’s done golfing. Except that no, no he won’t. Which brings me to my original question of what was even the point of the FIRST text. Just don’t text me.

So you find yourself sitting there waiting for your phone to ring and then realize that you don’t want to be in THAT PLACE, so you just block him and move on (to write a fictitious blog about this hypothetical situation).

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