You have seen the photos, you have read the evidence, you are beginning to get the gist of who I am. There is an unusual pattern in my dating history of mysterious behaviour that can only be explained by my intimidating nature…or…is it something else? Peppered evenly over the rancid dating experiences are the rancid experiences that never even begin. I have a detailed history of men completing ditching after they ask me out. Let’s underline and capitalize to get the point across MEN STAND ME UP AFTER THEY ASK ME OUT ON DATES.
Let us speculate for a moment that the only reason any guy would ask me out is to get into my pants. Be it for a longterm relationship or a misguided attempt at a fleeting sexual escapade, men who ask me out on dates are trying to sleep with me. So the question my dear reader, is this: How does a man propose to sleep with me if he never actually proceeds on the course laid out in our society to do so? How can one possibly achieve the task at hand if one enters the race, gets in the starting position, but then runs in the wrong direction like a sobbing adolescent when the starting pistol goes off? I am at a loss.
I would guess that on average I am stood up on a date about every 3 dates I accept. I am not talking about sitting by myself in a bar drinking my face off for two hours waiting for somebody, I am talking about a guy asks me out, we eventually decide on a day that works, and then the guy just never calls/texts me again. I have a suspicion that when you meet someone online and your regular form of communication is by email, it easily moves over to text rather than phonecalls, and this makes it a lot easier to agree to things or make plans or ditch on plans. Texting seems to have made people even more non-committal than before, because no actual verbal contact is made so it seems less real. It shouldn’t seem so crazy that people should just keep their word, but that is a whole other issue in itself which I will certainly have reason to rant about on another day.
This particular suitor, who chose tonight not to follow up on the time and location that we would meet after asking me out more than once, has a hefty history with me which I want to talk about. This suitor is a semi-famous, semi-successful musician and for that reason I will give him a different name. I am trying now on the spot to think of a clever name and in all the words exchanged with him over the course of the past four months I can’t think of one, so I’ll call him Mike.
Mike went on tour four months ago, a few days after I rekindled an email exchange which had started about five years ago when I moved to the city. Originally we had sent messages back and forth a few times and when I was by coincidence going to one of his shows, I refrained from finding him and meeting him due to a combination of being there with family members, not having enough drinks, him wearing a cowboy hat, and him having mutual friends with my cousin which I believed was adding unwanted pressure to the situation (“She better not hurt him because he is a really nice guy.” Please, get me out of here.)
So one night several months ago I’m out at a pub and I spot him. I try to stare him down and at one point flirtatiously step aside for him to get to the bar which I was leaning on. On an instantaneous nervous schoolgirly whim, I run off to the ladies while he is standing there instead of talking to him. When I return I continue the attempted stare down and fail as he gets his jacket and leaves. That very night, I stumble upon his dating profile again on a different site from that of years before and message him again.
It turns out it was not him at the bar I was staring at, but his (possibly better looking, but worse hair styled) doppleganger. We joke about this (not the better looking part, obviously) and as I mention we have talked before, he immediately remembers me by name and gives me his email since he is leaving on a four month tour the following day.
At the beginning the emails were few and far between, I confess because I was interested in somebody else who was more prominent on the back burner of my heart because he was actually in the city. By the time Mike’s tour came through my city, I had decided not to date that one, and I wanted to meet Mike in person so I wrote him an email telling him I might stop by the show.
So I did. And with the exact right number of drinks under my belt I approached him at the merch booth and met him without a single droplet of awkwardness, without a single smidgen of revulsion. How peculiar, I thought. His music is not exactly my flavor but it is talented and I was pleased to be able to stare him down on stage without seeming like a creep.
After the show, he didn’t seek me out before I left. I was then surprised but not shocked that he didn’t write to me again for several weeks. It gave me several impressions:
- He was really busy on tour.
- He was trying to play it cool because he liked me.
- He is even less concerned about being single than me.
- He was acting like the cliché rockstar I have consistently avoided for my whole life.
But once he started writing to me again it was a constant stream of nearly every day until he got back to the city. Last week. I admit that there were several times that I got annoyed with his emails because of how unfunny they were in response to my side splitting anecdotes, but I reasoned that some people just are not funny in emails, and I also didn’t have anything better going on, so I carried on writing to him.
So last week he asks me out again by suggesting we go out for drinks. Gasp. My favorite thing to do on a date! I accept by giving him my phone number. Instead of calling or texting me, he emails me his phone number…which seemed stupid, why didn’t he just call or text me himself? So I text him something hilarious, and he texts back something mediocre. I decide I need to get this show on the road and meet him as soon as possible so that if he doesn’t laugh at my jokes I can get him out of the way of my other back burner candidates. Specific nights that I’m available are offered , and a night is chosen of the three, but which he only half assed accepted by means of texting me “Monday might work.” I assume that this basically means Monday is a go unless he tells me otherwise. Jokes ensue regarding where to meet but it ends without a set destination or a time, and with him leaving me hanging Sunday evening after a comment involving going to a bar where hookers hang out in the bathrooms.
Monday happens. By around 3pm, I am annoyed and plotting my lie of having other plans. Although I am not the social butterfly I was in my youth and generally prefer to stay home, I am not a wait by the phone type of girl and I don’t see why anyone would expect me to be. Being a Scorpio, spite overtakes me, and possibly a dab of overreaction comes with it. Moreso than in any other circumstance, I do not need to waste any time, or breath, or brainpower more than once discussing a date that I am going on. Not only as the woman, but as the one who was asked out by the other person, I should certainly not have to keep asking to pin down a time and place, and definitely not be left wondering if it is happening or not the day of the possible date.
Throughout much discussion via email during his absence from my city, I have come to know that Mike is also a Scorpio, so it’s possible he should have known better than to try to take away my power, but it’s also possible that like me, he just doesn’t actually care that much. There is no way that a guy who won’t commit to a date is nearly excited enough about going out with me. I am exciting. How could anyone not realize this after meeting me in person? I am smokin hot. However, I also exude an I-don’t-waste-my-time-with-guys-who-I-don’t-think-I-will-like aura, and I absolutely also give off an I-don’t-waste-time-with-guys-who-seem-like-they-aren’t-that-into-me vibe, with a nice wholesome sprinkle of I-don’t-even-care-if-you-never-talk-to-me-again edge. BUT-playing it cool or not, this was his idea so he should follow through or drop it.
Even if a guy would apologize for wasting my time by breaking plans with me, or bailing on pseudo-plans without giving proper notice to definitely NOT go, even if it was a really good story, if he convinced me to go out with him another day, his honest chance would still be lost. I can’t take a guy seriously who isn’t capable to making solid plans and keeping them. As much as Mr.Rockstar might be busy and famous and just got back to town, I will never believe him to be a suitable match for me if he can’t manage to send a puny text, or an email, or make a phonecall to prevent me from wasting any energy on thinking I am going out with him when I am not. Rescheduling is an easy out. Even sending an I’m not sure text would be something. Despite his non-committal “Monday might work” response to my offers of open nights, the non-committal factor was probably the biggest piss off overall. It was uncertain from the beginning. And uncertainty, especially begotten from touring rockstar man who I wasn’t so sure about in the first place, is not what I am looking for. I am a pulsating tower of confidence and anyone who tries to diminish the pulse gets kicked off the tower and sent spiraling down into certain death.
So finally, as I wrote this, Mike texted at 8:37pm “Can’t do tonight, sorry I didn’t get in touch sooner…this weeks a bit of a clusterfuck.”
I accept your apology Mike, so if I see you around I will say hi.
I will not be replying to your weak text with your weak explanation in an untimely fashion along with your outright lack of effort to reschedule. Goodbye four months of emailing, goodbye anticipation of having a girl when you are home, goodbye chance at meeting your equal Scorpio counterpart, goodbye communication, goodbye most prominent position on my crowded backburner of suitors, goodbye chance.
If Mike tries hard enough to make it up to me I will go out with him. Most men don’t try though because all they see when they look at me is their failure. Most probably don’t see the point because they probably predict that I am just going to torture them anyway. In a way, they are right. Any guy who fails at making it up to me but still manages to be polite enough to get me to go out with him gets the non-sexual torture of their lives. That might sound like a turn-on. Well it isn’t. It is mean, ungratifying, frustrating, deliberate and they deserve it. Don’t mess with me, men. I will destroy your confidence and make you feel as inconsiderate as you are.
But alas, I am probably overreacting. He did apologize, but I’m not satisfied with his lack of explanation. The red flag is that he is giving me the impression that he believes his time is more important than mine. I’m not looking for a whirlwind whenever he is in town bang, I am looking for a lifer and Mike is proving to be quite inadequate. When you ask me out and I agree, I should not be the one who needs to ask you which day you are free. You ask me when I can go and arrange it into your schedule. Pick a day and go with it, the whole thing was your idea in the first place, I shouldn’t need to keep offering days I am available as though I am trying to pin you down and force you to pick a time. If that is the case, as with this one, you look like you are avoiding it. In fact, my first instinct when a guy won’t commit to a date is that he is currently dating someone else and trying to see where that is going before committing to going out with someone else. And you know what? I respect that. Just don’t think I am ever going to try to set a up the date with you a second time. I have a superhuman capacity for truly not caring when things don’t work out with a guy. I give up really easily, because there are a lot more of you who could be pissing me off for the first time rather than being pissed off by the same guy multiple times.
The awkward part will be if he asks me if I’m mad. I am not mad, I am just not interested in hanging out with someone who acts like he is not that into me. I am used to bewitching men with my charm and them falling swiftly in love with me, so what good is going out with a man who I need to convince of my greatness? It is obvious. Acknowledge it. Or get out of my way so I can clear up the backburner space for somebody else.
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