Vancouver Dating Blog: Impatiently Dating
[Trigger warning: ableist language]
I have always cultivated an air of rationality when it comes to most aspects of my life. One might even think that I had mastered the art of being breezy. But the truth of the matter is that after a first date, when first dates are still something incredibly new and fun to me, I categorically and without question lose my goddamn mind.
Or well, at least, I lose my mind when talking to friends. When talking to friends I am a swooning and blubbering, adrift on the pheromones and seratonin. However, when dealing with the object of my (albeit likely temporary affection), I am cool as a cucumber.
So that is why, after an amazing first date with Garbage Man, I refrain from texting, calling, and all other crazy behaviours. And the next evening, he texts.
"Hey, I had a good time last night. Don't study too hard."
I text back.
"I had a good time too."
I expected him to text again, to follow up and ask something, to make plans, whatever. And because he didn't, I didn't. This was still back when I thought some dating rules probably did still need to be followed. But I digress. He didn't message and so I didn't message and instead I put my nose in my books and tried to ignore the undeniable excitement/lust brewing inside me.
Do I think that Garbage Man is the love of my life, my soul mate, my other half, the Will Smith to my Jada Pinkett, the foreign baby to my Angelina, the brain to my George Bush, the passcode to my sphinx? Probably Not. But we had a good time and the making out was fire so obviously I want to do it again.
Could it really be that simple?
Yes, it is exactly that simple.
People are so quick to confuse the lust and passion of women for us falling head over heels in love in a heartbeat but turns out, we're actually just balls of hormones and desiring of good times as men are. Weird, huh?
Anyways, so I held out until for 4 whole days. And then I sent him a breezy message,
I text "How's your week going"
He texts "Slow. I think I'm getting the flu. How are you doing?"
I call him because it was 2010 and people still did that back then. Plus, of course, he was a phone talker (having asked to call me before ever even asking me on a date--things were wild back then!)
But nothing is ever quite as simple as you want, is it. He doesn't answer when I call and then later texts the following:
"Sorry, I was sleeping aka getting rest, maybe we can hang out on friday? Let you know how I feel."
He doesn't text on Friday (presumably because he's on death's doorstep). And then the rest unfolded like this:
Monday 02.08.10 (one week has passed since first date)
He texts: yhgkakjdf;kja;lskdj))@*#($)$Hdjaf;kdja;lsd
I text back: Are you sitting on your phone? because I just got the weirdest message from you
He texts: No lol! Telus doesn't play well with other phone carriers, I'll resend
He texts: Hi SSD, It hurts to talk, I'm back at Dr. not feeling any better. Hope your enjoying sunshine ttyl.
He texts: sexy banter
I text: sexy banter
He texts: Hey SSD, are you wanting to get together Friday? Maybe you can come over to my place, that would be nice, Hopefully I'll be feeling 100%
I text back: Do you think it's likely you'll be feeling better by friday?
He texts: Ah yes, I fogot that I need to book some time to hang out with you! lol. Do you have other plans?
I text back: Lol! that's so hilarious because it's true lol-I'm just finishing an assignment, can I call u in ten min?
He texts: you need to make an appointment to speak with me lol! Yes I believe I am available at that time and will be expecting your call :P)
I call and the gist is I'm like "is it likely you'll feel better?"and note that this is very bizarre to me...I mean either you know you'll be better or you won't...it's only like a day and a half till we would be hanging out???
He basically says "I'd really like to hang out, I'm hoping/thinking I'll be better, but can we still play it by ear?")
His whole response is lame and yet somehow, I agree anyway.
I text: Hey Cutie! How's my favorite patient?
He texts: Just at Dr.'s again
I text: Because you're still feeling crap? or to get the go-ahead aka not contagious?
I text: You still at the Dr.?
*lonely mountain echo*
*silence so deafening one can even hear the Sprint pin dropping*
*children in Panama are telling the story of the lady who went spontaneously deaf except that it's so quiet I can still actually hear them telling the story*
Saturday 02.13.10 (Two weeks have passed since first date)
He texts: Sorry fell asleep after I got home. I ttyl when I feel better.
Which is like are you fucking kidding me???!?!?!?! When I call my friend to describe the pitiful state of things, she informs me that apparently men are COMPLETE FUCKING BABIES when it comes to being sick AND reiterates what I already knew (that boys think "falling asleep" is some sort of valid excuse for anything. Ugh.
I eventually text Garbage Man back and say: Sure
I call him (because I'm bored, because I like things settled one way or another, because I'm a fucking lunatic, because I lack any ability to demonstrate patience).
When I call him the phone rings and then sounds like someone picked up. I say, hello? and then the phone suddenly starts ringing again and then goes to voicemail...and I'm like wtf??? STUPID FUCKING TELUS!!! STUPID FUCKING CELL PHONES!!! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK wtf do I do now?!?
I attempt to leave a breezy message about seeing if he's feeling any better, has he died etc.? and if he is feeling better maybe we could kick it that Friday or Saturday?
And then (gasp!) I call him again!!! This time I leave a message telling him that Telus is officially screwing my phone big time and it's now completely unreliable even as a phone and not just texts and if he does want to hang out to just message me on plenty of fish...BREEZY!!! lol okay so this wasn't exactly breezy but I will reassure you that at the very least it was breezier than how it sounds now reading it back lol!
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
Time ticks by like I threw molasses on the clock. It's moving so slow, I could throw a ball in the air, run to the kitchen, make a sandwich, eat it and come back in time to catch the ball. Can you die from impatience???