Status: Closed but pending further contact Alias: The Bloody Third
After having a conversation with a gentlemen friend who’s a waiter about how female patrons leave their number for him, I decided this could be a good test, because I do love a good social experiment. So one night out to dinner with a friend I decided to do some research. Now to say our waiter was exactly what I was looking for in a man, would be a lie and couldn’t be farther from the truth, but he was there. I would describe him as about average in looks and intellect with some interesting facial hair, which only detracted from the package. Reader, you have not met me, but let’s just say I am far above average in both of those fields. Yet I was still surprised when about an hour after we left the restaurant I received a text message from him asking me out. We fixed a date for that Monday and exchanged messages the rest of the night. Through the course of events I come to find out his name.
Really? That name was so awesome they named two other guys that before you? He excused it with a simple “I’m Southern”.
The next day, which happened to be Sunday and my only day off, while getting ready to meet a friend for dinner, I received a text message from him.
Hey I’m here, have been for a while actually.
Deep confusion set in. What was he talking about? This was Sunday-our date was Monday. I quickly looked back though our messages and realized he had asked me out for the next day, which was in fact Sunday, not Monday. I looked at the time and saw I was forty five minutes late for the date across town. Not to mention I had other plans. I had stood him up.
I had stood up a guy I wasn’t super interested in but had given my number to in hopes for a good experience to write about.
Now I felt bad. I was a horrible person.
After quickly telling him the situation about my serious blonde moment and how I didn’t mean to stand him up, I asked if we could go out the following night. He agreed; said it wasn’t a “biggie” and that he was at a place he loved and went to almost every night anyway. I felt slightly better, but only just slightly.
The next night I met him at the place I was supposed to meet him the night before. He was already a few beers in; seemed a little nervous and remained that was the entire night. We talked, I found out he had done some stand up before and was pretty proud of it. We also found things in common; we both were anglophiles, both went to private schools, both our families had the same breed of dog, we drove the same type of car, and thought the same actress was absolutely gorgeous.
You still have all your own teeth? I still have all my own teeth! We’re meant to be!
Sorry, now I’m just being facetious, but in the end it was a nice date and he was very much “into” me, at least on a physical level. We are after all, primates. Now you might be thinking to yourself:
Gee, how did you know he was so interested in you?
Well, first of all readers:
A) I’m not a moron-this girl’s been around the block, and
B) It could have been a lot of things really. The way he looked at me, the fact that he laughed a little too hard at my jokes, or maybe it was the fact that we made out for an hour outside the bar. It was probably the last one.
We ended the night by scheduling a date for the following Sunday and then parted ways. I didn’t hear from him until later on that week and me being a rational human, I appreciated it. He asked me if I was around his place of employment that Friday I should come in and say hi. I told him I wasn’t planning on going out that evening, but was the following night and that I could then if he was working. He said he was and things were set.
Saturday I put on a cute vintage inspired outfit featuring high-waisted shorts and pinup heels and headed to the restaurant to wait for the friend I was meeting up with later. In the hour and a half I waited for her he told me the following:
The bartender said I had amazing legs, for which I do.
He couldn't wait for our date the next day.
And he found me on Facebook, looked through all my pictures, and didn't ask to be my friend. How did he know my name to find me? Oh yeah, from my receipt. Classy.
When my friend got there she asked me if I had invited him to the party we were going to? I asked him if he wanted to come after he got off work and he said he might stop by.
We got to the party and we immediately headed for the room set up for dancing. This girl likes to shake it. As the night went on the number of men that surrounded us got progressively larger to the point that I told my date if he were going to come, he'd better come quickly and save me from all the leering men. He said he was coming and bringing a work friend.
This is where things got weird. I don’t know what happened in the few hours that we were apart, but when I saw him again he was different. He was distant and strange and generally seemed like he didn’t want to be in my company. I made the most of it, trying not to read too much into anything. I danced with him a little at first, trying to make the situation normal to no avail. He did not want to dance.
Everybody wants to dance with me, even if you don't like to dance and especially if you're looking to get some.
So, we went upstairs, got him a drink and talked for a little while. Still being weird. My friend who I was staying with that night needed to go home because she worked in the morning so we parted ways and said we would see each other the next night and he would let me know the plans.
Not finalizing the plans, which leads me to the big surprise;
I didn’t hear from him. I waited all day and then sent him a message asking what the plan was for that night, then waited a few hours and called him. There was no answer and frankly I wasn't surprised because of the way he acted the night before. What had happened? So many variables, but maybe it was that I told him on my list of things I had to do that next day there was him. Maybe he got performance anxiety. Who knows. Regardless, he stood me up, but he’ll come back, they always do.
And I wasn’t even interested!
