Shortly into my commute home from work the afternoon before last I received a couple of texts from an unidentified number. I knew immediately who it was upon reading them but I asked “Who’s this?” anyway to make the fact that I was over it ever more poignant.
Guy in question (not important enough to waste an alias on) was someone whom my friend Tyra sent my way a month or so ago. This was apparently someone she met through Bumble and ended up meeting for coffee but didn’t feel any sparks with. For some reason she thought maybe he and I might be a good match, so she asked if I would want to give him a try.
This was somewhere around the time Adam gave me the heave-ho, although I can’t remember for sure whether it was right beforehand or right after. Whatever the case may be, I wasn’t feeling it at first since guy and Adam just so happen to share the same first name. I thought that would be in poor taste.
At some point after the Adam situation imploded I gave in and told Tyra she could pass my number along. He started texting me and we exchanged a few pictures; he looked decent and seemed to have a high opinion of my looks, but it was hard for me to feel any real interest in the wake of the Adam debacle and especially since this guy didn’t seem to be making any moves to actually meet up.
He finally decided to make that move a couple of weeks ago, and we settled on Thursday evening. When I told him what town I lived in, he said he’d scout out a place for us to go down my way. The day before, I asked him if he’d figured anything out yet and he replied that he hadn’t thus yet and said his day had been hectic.
Admittedly, he slipped my mind for the rest of that day and it didn’t occur to me that I never heard anything back from him until Thursday evening. It was cold, rainy, and dreary and I wasn’t terribly pressed to go out in weather like that or with him to begin with, but I would’ve held up my end of he bargain if we had solidified plans so I was a little ticked that I never heard anything more from him. I sent my patented “Or not” to him, which he never responded to. Some time over the course of the weekend when he came to mind again and I realized he had never responded, I deleted his number and went on with my life.
For some reason he decided 2 weeks later was the appropriate time to randomly offer some half-ass apology, his excuse being that he figured I would be pissed and that he should’ve been better at communication.
Right, buddy.Unfortunately, the time to apologize would’ve been around the time you essentially stood me up 2 weeks ago.
As soon as he responded to my faux inquiry into his identity, I deleted his texts. Extraordinarily not interested. Logic kind of dictates that if this is the way he sees fit to act before we even have yet to meet, then it would only get worse from here.
Dating in the early stages, including any precursory period, is like a job interview…when you’re supposed to display your most polished and refined self to make the best impression possible. At least for normal people. Thus it could be deduced that either this IS his best impression, which is not a good one, or that he doesn’t really care about making one. Neither alternative is appealing.
I find my patience these days with men and/or peoples’ bullshit in general to be precariously thin.
I gave Elliot – Oh He Who Ignores My Texts More Often Than Not – his just desserts recently as well when he texted me about some minor Facebook drama centered around a particular colleague of ours. I didn’t even bother answering. Just like he does me most of the time.
It’s the small victories…