Don’t call me, definitely

Last weekend while Melissa and I were visiting Katie in Atlanta, we met some random dude at some random bar on a random Saturday. I don’t know why he was there by himself, but he started talking to us.  Long story short, he took an interest in Katie but he and I exchanged numbers because I insisted he hang out with us later (go go gadget Beer Goggles). He spent the rest of the night texting me about how he wanted to see Katie and would I please tell her that – which was fine. He lives in Atlanta and so does she, not a big deal.

On Sunday, he wound up meeting up with us to watch football, in which he acted entirely too awkward and made us all uncomfortable.

Fast forward to this weekend, he starts texting me saying he wished we could have “hanged out.”  Okay, sorry, no.  First of all, you’re 36.  Learn grammar.  Second of all, I am not going to be your second choice. So after I stopped responding to his inane text messages (example: “hi”) he took it upon himself to call me (a call I ignored). This, right here, is why I will be single FOREVER.

I refuse to be someone’s second choice/fallback/what have you.  I deserve better.

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