I am, at times, my own worst enemy, and so, I have come up with little tricks in an attempt to avoid looking like a total idiot, boy-obsessed teenage girl, and/or crazy cat lady. I am not any of these things, but sometimes (i.e., under the influence of a few cocktails), I can display associated behaviors.
One such trick is deleting a suitor's number if he fails to contact me for a week. An old roommate taught me this tactic, and I will forever be grateful. Her logic? What's the point of keeping his digits in your phone when your "Ms. Hyde" side could access it at any moment of weakness. I do try to remember the first few digits, though, just in case he pops up again. A girl has to hold on to a little hope.
Accordingly, a while back, I deleted the number of a certain "Fake-Out Artist". We had had a great first date, but then he gave me the fade out. It sucked, but he had his flaws and was easy enough to forget. At least, that's what I thought...
Fast forward to the Sunday after Thanksgiving. While hanging out with my parents, I received a text from a number that was not saved in my phone but which I slightly recognized. Here's how the conversation progressed (with some omissions of the completely boring and mundane texts, as well as comments... also ignore the poor grammar/punctuation):
Him: Hiya
Me: Hey ya. Who is this? Sorry. My phone deleted some contacts. (I am smooth.)
Him: How bout a hint? (I knew who it was at this point... The dude in question thought he was quite witty and teasing; however, he mostly came off as annoying.)
Me: Please.
Him: You spent 3 nights in the last 2 weeks at My place (This is in no way accurate, as confirmed by my response.)
Me: Well that's interesting since the only place I've slept in the last 2 weeks, other than my bed, is my parents' house. (SNAP!!)
Him: You mean you don't remember? Well I must beg to differ. So I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree?
Me: I would imagine that I would remember that... Unless it was pretty unmemorable. (As someone who is in no way ballsy, I am quite proud of my sass in these texts.)
Him: I'm not sure what you're suggesting... But I think that's why we're agreeing to disagree?
Me: Still not sure who I'm agreeing to disagree with... And I'm not sure that you're sure who I am either. (I was certain that he had f*ed up and contacted me by mistake.)
Him: You're Jen! (So, either he realized his mistake and tried to play it cool... or he has another explanation below.)
Me: Yup. But who is this?
Him: I haven't given you enough hints?
--- (I'm cutting out some BS here where I essentially figured out for sure that he was the Fake Out Artist... I will call him "Mike," as I think that is his name. My memory is not the best, and it had been over a month.) ---
Me: Oh well... how are things? Been a while. I assume pretty well if you have a lady spending the night 3 times in the last 2 weeks. (Again, so proud of myself!!!)
Him: Well, you claim I haven't... Overall I been good. Busy like a mofo. And unforgivingly awol... Pleasantly surprised you're responding since I sucked for the last while.
Me: Well I definitely wasn't sure who you were at first, and I was intrigued after your claims.
Him: I'm glad you were intrigued and not freaked out.
Me: I still kinda think you meant to text another girl, but I am intrigued
Him: Wednesday night reunion? I knew who I was texting. I barely even slept in my own bed over the last 2 weeks. There wasn't no guests. Worked out well to break/re-break the ice though.
I should state that answering him in the first place was not the wisest move on my part, but I saw it as entertainment. And when we continued to chat, I told myself that I had to see it through "for blog purposes." I'll totally admit that some part of me also hoped that things would work out and one day we'd laugh about that awkward "joke" he used to get in touch with me again... Stupid hope!
And so we started texting each other again quite regularly. Well actually, more than regularly... he texted me all the damn time for a few weeks. We never did have that Wednesday night date. Why? He had a FUNERAL to go to?! I believed him, as I assumed only a monster would make up a funeral.
However, my patience grew thin rather quickly. I am not on the hunt for a digital pen pal, so when he failed to reschedule our date but continued to text me daily, I asked him about it directly. He sang me some song about how I was playing hard to get (by asking him out??) and went on to say that he was too busy that week. It was all a load of bull, and I enacted a text-based fade out.
After I finish writing this blog, his number will be deleted once again, hopefully never to return to my phone again.
