Tuesday, March 13, 2007

And Once Again, a Man Totally Pisses Me Off

I had a very nice date the other night with a young gentleman that I will not name, but whose name rhymes with "Fan." Fan and I had a nice date: sushi, coffee, walking by the river. And a good night kiss. A light, little, fun peck, but a kiss nonetheless. We made plans to continue our conversation later on, in exactly one week: Sunday.

On Saturday morning, I woke up and checked my email, like the sick addict I am. I had a message from Fan. He apologized and said he couldn't make it on Sunday because he had to pick up another shift at work, and that he couldn't really reschedule due to the fact he was moving and busy packing. I chalked it up to brushing me off, and was quite bummed out: I started a fight with my sister, worked out frantically to get bad vibes out of my system, cleaned the bathroom with a toothbrush, etc.

Everyone said to me, "Oh, don't freak out! He just had to work. I mean, he kissed you, right? Of course he still wants to go out with you."

I just want you all to know that I know a brush off when I get one.

Today I got this email:

Hi Micaela,
How are you? I am fine. Hey, I dont [sic] want to like string you along or anything.. [sic] I am going to take a break from dating for awhile. Good luck with your search.
Fan* (*Name changed for the purposes of this story)

Now, what the hell am I to say to that? Oh, I know: if you think you don't want to date, then DON'T DATE!! Don't put your freaking face up on match.com and tell the universe what a fantastic and great guy you are. Don't tell women that you are the frog that they can turn into a prince. Don't tell women how you are sympathetic and nice and caring. Because you are not. If you were, you would have called me, rather than emailed me; you would have hugged me rather than kissed me; and you certainly would have ignored my next email rather than telling me you wanted to go out again, this time for Thai food at 4:30 on Sunday.

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