A Kind of Sad and Embarrassing Story
Cazey came this weekend to visit me for a brief — but appreciated — three hours before training down to Virginia Beach. As friends do, we were catching each other up on our personal lives.
Have you written about this yet?
Was Cazey’s immediate question after I shared. It’s kind of sad and embarrassing, I replied.
Clearly Cazey won because here is my sad and embarrassing personal life update.
I’ve been single again now for four months — wow time flies when you’re overwhelmed — so I thought I’d put in maybe a minimal level of effort in trying to date.
Swipe, swipe, swipe. A few weeks ago, I match with a skinny blond guy. He quickly says something along the lines of, “Let’s just meet because texting is hard to read,” which I genuinely appreciate. We plan for last Thursday.
When Thursday rolls around, he asks if I’d like to come over for a bottle of wine, to which I quickly try to redirect to meeting somewhere in public. He pushed back saying he has a nice patio and the wine already. I — still not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to show up at a stranger’s house — make a joke along the lines of, “Le’t’s do a wine bar or something. Not really in the mood for getting murdered tonight.”
Then the dude wholly leans into the murder joke.
At the time we’re supposed to be meeting he says, “So what’s your decision. Coming to check out the basement?”
I said, “Thanks for the offer but no.”
And then I got blocked.
Onward and upwards though, right? That’s just one bad match.
I keep swiping.
Soon I match with another blond boy, but this one is huge. Like weightlifter looking, which is kind of not my style, but whatever, let’s just try it out.
After some nice banter — we both like sports, like Richmond and have siblings — we plan to hang out this past Thursday.
In more normal fashion, he selects a bar for a drink. Then about a half hour before we’re planning to meet, he asks if we can go to a sports bar so we can watch football. A tad red flag-ish that he wants to bring me on a viewing party first date, but at this point, I’m already half ready. Fine.
Then about 15 minutes later, he says he’s running late. I say, “that’s fine. Just let me know when you’re 10 minutes away.”
About 10 minutes after our original start time, he sends me a freshly showered mirror selfie of his bare (impressive) abs and low hanging towel with the text that says, “Just got out of the shower.”
I think boys think that’s a cool thing to send, but despite his godlike figure, I was largely turned off. However, makeup is done and my clothes are on, so at this point I’m committed to going regardless. I replied with, “Sounds good! Let me know when you’re on the way.”
20 minutes later, I am highly annoyed that I could have been better using my time studying or blogging or eating dinner or ANYTHING other than waiting on this dude to be ready. And then get a text that says, “Sorry can’t make it.” And then he blocks me.
For those keeping score, that’s 2-2 on planning a Thursday date two weeks in a row, 2-2 on getting blocked and 0-2 on actually even making it to the date.
But don’t worry, I just got a message that said, “I like boobs,” so I think things are looking up. #not