Vancouver Dating Blog: Easy Come, Easy Go
One week ago today, I had four potential daters lined up, and now here I am with only one that shows potential. But I guess that's the thing about online dating, it can be extremely fickle. Either that, or I'm starting to be a better judge of character the more I get to know men online.
So, here's a quick recap of men that are in the mix (and men who've been dusted off to the bin):
Slow (and Steady?): He's done, or more accurately I'm done with him. DONE. His messages had really started to feel just like he was answering my questions and never asking me anything new or interesting, so I just stopped replying.
The Divorcee: Done. After the phonecall fiasco he messaged with this (and 2 days later, no less!): Hey Victoria, I took an unexpected phone call and it has taken me up to now to get everything sorted. I greatly apologize for the inconvenience. So please don't take what happened the other day the wrong way. Ooph. Honestly, I know it's an apology but all it really tells me is this dude has issues (with whoever called) and issues with dating (a quick message at the time would've sufficed). No biggie, onto the next.
Intelligence Officer: Things have progressed with him in that we sexted and I actually enjoyed it (which is pretty rare with me tbh). I don't know if it's just because men suck at it or what, but I rarely enjoy sexting (probably because I'm usually carrying the whole conversation and who enjoys that?! lol). It started quite simply because we were being clever and sexy with each other, and then it continued because not only did he say all the things I wanted to hear (read) but it became this thing where I let myself loose (because what did I have to lose?) So, I said what I wanted and I meant it--no timidity, no shyness, no hesitation or compromise. And then 4 hours later (Yes! 4! Hours! Later!), I had just had the most exciting, impressive, titillating and needless to say HOT! faux-sex experience of my entire life. After the sexting, we start to talk about the logistics of making it a reality. I can't host because I'm living with my parents during school and he's only in Vancouver for 5 more days until he moves to squamish where he'll be living with a friend and an ex (so obviously he can't host after the 5 days). The sexy-witty-banter-hot-faux-sex(ting) continues for the next 3 days. It's so extensive that I have to scan through my phone that only holds 150 messages in the inbox and selectively delete messages to free up space (obviously keeping the good stuff as it's like porn lol!).
We make plans to hang out wednesday. He'll be in town for work till 8, and though I have a ball game that night, we might be able to hang out afterwards. Then on Monday it happens. Screech! I slam the brakes. I have at no point conveyed (to him) that it would be a possibility for us to date. I haven't expressed any desire for anything committed, long-term or even relationship-esque, and yet, true to dumbass-men form, he spouts some bullshit randomly during a text conversation about how he's not looking for anything long-term or committed. I absolutely can't stand when men do this shit like sorry bro, I didn't know that booty calls could even BE long-term or committed, but whatever, I say. He clearly misses my rage. I'm only here for sex he says don't get too attached. Like, seriously? Dude! You're ruining it!
I spend the rest of the day royally pissed that someone could fuck up such a silver platter situation. I ponder if there's anyway that he can come back from this (and quickly decide there isn't, but I'm very, very wrong lol). Tuesday comes and I manage to casually convey how I'm pissed and well, he's completely stumped and confused and appears to not have a fucking clue as to what's changed. He calls and I don't answer, so he texts: I can't apologize if I don't know what I did wrong.
Truly the lowest bar for being a man but somehow this willingness to apologize rubs me the right way and I call him back. We talk and things get sorted. After our call he texts: Your voice is soooo sexy (dirty talk dirty talk), and I swoon (lustily not emotionally). Turns out I'm an incredibly easy mark when complimented on something I'm insecure about (my deep voice). Apparently it's hot. Yay me. Looks like we're still on for Wednesday.