Greetings my little monsters! We’re back with the first official installment of this series which I have so un-creatively dubbed (S)He Doesn’t Like You! Such an uplifting and confidence boosting title, no? But fitting, since we all go through so many duds (not a typo) before we find Mister or Miss Perfect-for-me. I tell you, he’s out there. You will find her.
So in what real world people call a good-faith act, I will be contributing a real-life story of my own to get this jank kicked off. It may be hard for you all to believe (jokes), but Miss Sassy herself has been shut down many-a-time (no jokes). Many. A. Time. And I am a better person for it. See previous entries about trifeness in my life, character building, blah blah blah. So here we go.
A long unspecified time ago, I was hanging out with this dude. He was pretty cool, good looking, employed, not living with his parents, nice to me, etc. So we’re hanging out a little, texting during the day (a lot), calling me at night, meeting up after work, taking me on cute little dates, paying me cute little ego boosting compliments. The following occurrences are the first red flags that this guy is not totally into me, but into me enough to make a half-effort: 1) I never met any of his friends. 2) He always told me “don’t be a stranger.” We all know how I feel about that. 3) After a while, I found myself the initiator of our outings more often than him. This troubled me, but because I am female I let it continue, thinking of any and all excuses possible.
Then something happened which gave me the little slap in the face I needed. Twice, I suggested some evening activity for us to do (you know, coloring and lanyard making at my house, or maybe a game of knock-out followed by capture the flag at his), and twice I was brushed off in a very casual way. He’s real sorry, but he’s got this event for work that night and it’ll probably go late, and then he’s got to finish this proposal. And again, he’s super sorry but his dad’s coming into town so he has to host and blah blah. I logically suggest we make plans more in advance, so as to work around his busy schedule. But really work is crazy for him because of just tons of craziness. It’s so crazy, he tells me, he just doesn’t know when it will cease to be crazy. Red lights are flashing, sirens are blaring, and there is practically a jumbo-tron on his forehead with the announcement, “It’s not my work, I just don’t like you!” But I am blinded by the biceps. From here, I embark on a little experiment to see if I can get him to passively tell me exactly how he feels. So after this second/third/whatever rejection, I cease communication.
On the fifth day of zero communication to or from him, I received a message that was something along these lines: “Yo girl where you been”…Well thanks for your concern, I have been right where I have always been, duh. It is you who has apparently gone missing from my incoming calls. So we schedule lunch because he “misses me.” Somehow my heart is not a-fluttering. Lunch goes well, we have normal conversation about nothing important, until finally at the very end of lunch he decides he wants to broach the topic of our 5 day communication hiatus. He asks me what happened to me. I politely inform him that I was where I always am and was perfectly reachable the same as always. He says I shouldn’t be such a stranger. I remind him that I do not do the pursuing in situations such as these and if he would like to hang out with me, he knows perfectly well how to contact me and make plans. He chuckles and thinks that’s awfully sassy of me to say out loud (it is, I am) but agrees that the ball is now in his court and we will hang out in some non-specified time period called “soon.” I smile and agree, suspecting knowing already that I probably won’t see him again. But hey, thanks for the free lunch.
Can anyone guess what happened? I didn’t see him again, shock of shocks. He may have texted me a couple weeks later, but he had been crossed off the list by then. There’s nothing like clarity, and there’s nothing like spotting trifeness before you get in too deep. So why couldn’t he have just told me outright that he was over it? Why did we have to go to lunch one last time? If we both secretly knew it was a waste of his money…what’s the point? Why was he so trife that he couldn’t just come right out and say, “yo girl, I just ain’t feelin it, you know.” Instead of me answering these questions as usual, next week we’ll hear exactly why from our real live Mexperts.