I was inspired to write this supremely depressing 2-part post (can’t wait to read it now, can ya?) by a middle-of-the-night phone call I got the other night. Here’s how it went down:
Phone vibrates. It’s 1:48 a.m. You know who calls at 1:38 a.m.? People whose limbs are falling off or people who want to cut off your limbs. Oh, and occasionally – drunk men, in the mood for ….well, yeah.
I look and it says, “Unknown Caller.” I answer in my groggy, but firmly “I’m certainly not all alone in my home, just waiting to be killed” voice, “Hello?”
Now, ordinarily, that would just be a minor inconvenience, but for some reason, it awoke me in just such a state that getting a hang-up call from a blocked number scared the sense right out of me. I was now in full-panic mode – the kind where you just KNOW that if you shift in the bed too noisily, a terrible man is going to come upstairs and remove all the skin from your body like peeling a grape, or something (I MAY have watched a few too many episodes of Criminal Minds. I’m never worried about dying, mind you…I’m always more concerned about the bag of tools in tow, and the bizarre form of torture I’ll inevitably endure.)
So, while I’m trying to talk myself out of being irrationally afraid…a good 5 minutes later, I get this text:
And so, the following middle-of-the-night conversation ensued. (So, to all the Words-With-Friends opponents who asked why I was playing at that crazy hour…now you know… to distract myself from thoughts of medieval torment machines being assembled in my living room).
So, I was finally able to calm myself down and drift back off into sleepy land, when what should happen…?
Let’s just review… this is a guy who I had ONE conversation with (by phone… in daylight hours), who said he would follow up with me and take me out for lunch. Then I didn’t hear from him for weeks, until he messaged me…. Well, actually, let me just SHOW you.
Here’s our first encounter – on the IM feature on OKCupid – many months ago…
Seems cool, right? He tracked with me on theological stuff, joked about smooching, …there was some banter there. Decent stuff, no?
He called the next day (as in…while the sun was still shining and I wasn’t asleep…) and we had a pleasant-ish conversation. He came off sorta pretentious…but not enough to not see how lunch went. He said he’d call or text about lunch…then nothing.
For several weeks.
Then, this conversation:
And then……. you guessed it…. nada.
No contact again.
I figured between the flakey plan-making (a particularly unseemly quality in my book), AND the snobby tone he’d adopted on the phone call…that I had zero interest.
You were bored, were you? BORED? Well, color me smitten. A man who would rudely awake me and then ‘woo’ me with words like, “just bored” is the kind of guy who inspires some disillusionment.
I mean – I expect this stuff from the low-life guys I quickly swipe past on online sites, but… “et TU, professor of philosophy?” If an educated, witty guy can succumb to late night fishing expeditions, then who the heck is LEFT? So, while I promise to return to my normal cheerful, holding-onto-hope in this world of dating tone soon… for now, I’m going to just shake my head in dismay.
Join me, will you?
A 2:00 a.m. booty call from a guy who seemed so great…is the kind of thing that has so many single people convinced that there’s nothing of quality left out there.
So, before I rally and give you my speech about how there ARE still great guys out there and that you should hold onto your hope and your standards, I thought I’d languish in the pit just a BIT longer… Come back another day for a better-rested, more hopeful blogger.