That thing with numbers. You push them. Then you talk to the person on the other end, and if it’s a girl you’re asking out for the very first time you make the call at a reasonable hour – ask her questions about herself, yada, yada – find a mutual meeting spot and set a date. You DO NOT SEND A TEXT MESSAGE.
If I were 15, it might be okay. But I’m 29! And I want to date a man, not a boy.
Remember the guy who kept texting me? I was so annoyed I texted him to call me the next time. Five days later, not phone call and then – another text. At this point the Dane had landed and the guy didn’t have shot in hell, but this is still funny.
Here’s how it ended.
Five days later … another text!
His Text: What are you doing this weekend?
My Text: Going to Athens.
His Text: Ha! See ya there.
My Text: Which festival are you going to?
And then late that night, while I’m falling asleep… my phone rings. It’s him! What??? I send it to voice mail. Then it rings again! And he leaves another voice mail. Two voice mails. The next morning I listen to them.
“Hi, Alaina, It’s Engineer. I – ughhh – hope you still remember me, I’m the guy you met at the bar the other night. Anyway, I really hope we get to hang out again. Later.”
“Hi, Alaina!” repeat first message but slightly altered and insert “So, if you ever need help with your fish, let me know.”
MY FISH? I DON’T HAVE ANY FRICKING FISH.
What is wrong with this guy? He’s calling two separate girls. He probably doesn’t even remember what I look like. The thing is, he seemed relatively sober when we met, was totally together, sexy and smart. Now I can clearly see that he’s an alcoholic or something. Or is he just a complete idiot?
The next morning I call him back.
“Hi, Engineer, it’s Alaina.”
We are actually talking. For the first time since the night we met at a bar three weeks beforehand.
“So…you called me twice last night.”
“Oh, I totally don’t remember.”
“You said you’d help me with my fish. I don’t have any fish.”
“Well, I totally don’t remember.”
Random chit chat ensues and I hang up the phone completely mystified as to why and how I could have ever thought this guy was dateable. He proceeds to text me that night and then call me on Monday, I sent it to voicemail and this time he didn’t leave a message. And I’m not calling him back.
Moral: Guys – if you’re asking us out for the first time – call us! (we think texting constantly is creepy and cowardly); Ladies, respect yourself enough not to let them get away with it.
Had to finish this story before I could write about the weekend with the Dane.