Long Game or Head Game

And for that reason, I’m out.

I will be doing another blog about the last year (likely in only a few vague paragraphs), but this one is specific to letting go of someone whom I had hoped to date.

After chasing after him off and on for almost ten months. After a date last night, I can say that my heart has moved on. I have long suspected that he was dating someone else; nothing else could explain the odd behavior and random texts.

I always assumed I was an afterthought, just based on the way he would text me. Single and lives alone, which I believe he lives alone; but, he would never text back quickly. Random blocks of time where he would just disappear.

In my head, I was always saying that he had a boyfriend, but, I would try to delete that thought — you’re just being insecure. I ignored a lot, because, I thought it was just my own insecurity.

Fast Forward: Reality

4:38pm – Him: Remember, when I told you a few weeks ago that I was going to get tickets for that show?
4:38pm – Me: Um, no?
4:39pm – Him: How long would it take you to get here? [A venue ~7 minutes from my house]
4:39pm – Me: About 7 minutes
4:39pm – Him: Hurry.

I had always wanted to spend time with him, and see how we would mesh outside of a bar. Of course, I say yes and get into the car and drive. As I park and start walking toward the front door:

4:49pm – Him: Hey if you already left fine. If you haven’t they might not let you in we just got into the theater.

It was at that point, it dawned on me, he didn’t care if I was there or not. He did not care that he rousted me out of my house and drove to come see him. He did not care that we were just on different sides of a wall. I was expendable. He had the tickets for this event, but was now seated.

As I was standing at the Box Office, trying to text him and let him know the show was sold out, I couldn’t buy a ticket… I got almost no reply. After standing there letting troves of people pass by me, on the verge of walking away, he finally yelled my name and gave me my ticket to get in.

The End

I won’t even begin to discuss the crossed arms and sitting away from me during the show. You know, textbook, I’m not interested in you body language. I wasn’t even given the common courtesy of a friend.

If you were my friend and I passingly text you a few weeks prior about a show I was taking someone else to. That person bails on me. I text you <30 minutes before the show. I ask you to come. I can promise you, that I would make sure you got in to the event, I would wait on you. Not send you some vague text that says “if you already left fine. If you haven’t they might not let you in”.

It can all be summed up in one word.


friends Long Game or Head Game

Friends… First Meet-Up

What a very interesting Monday night. This story will be a long one and may be one I tell to my kids someday. So, I have been attempting to meet people via Tinder (and once or twice when I get bored Grindr).

Obviously, the goal is to make friends, in real life friends.

This story starts around August 5th, when I had matched with a really fun gentleman from Grindr. Let’s just call him $grindr$friend$one. The conversation was very fun, not sexual, and we seemed to share common hate for things. In fact during the Grindr exchange, before trading cell phone numbers, we said we’re now BFFs.

$grindr$friend$one and I wanted to hang out, but with the stark difference in work schedules, it was just proving difficult.

I often describe myself as socially awkward. I think it sets the expectations fairly low. I also find Gay bars to be an odd place, where I always feel out of place. So when setting the expectation with $grindr$friend$one about our Monday meetup, I let them know; I would likely be very nervous and awkward.

I think we’re ready to start describing how Monday evening went. $grindr$friend$one shows up, it wasn’t that awkward, we start hanging out and talking. It was a very chill bar, and by the chill bar I mean, there were only 5 people there. (PS, I think most of them were bartenders there)

Eventually, I am introduced to $buffer$guy$one. Apparently, $grindr$friend$one had text two friends of his for “backup” to come in and provide a buffer for me, since I described myself so as super awkward.

So, I thought, this is interesting. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. $buffer$guy$one was actually pretty fun to talk with and get to know. In fact, there was a point in the conversations that I felt $buffer$guy$one and I were starting to vibe. (At least I think that’s the term).

So the night was going great. I got to meet $grindr$friend$one and $buffer$guy$one. Things were going great. $buffer$guy$one and I were really having some fun back and forth.

At one point in the conversation, $buffer$guy$one made a comment like, “Oh, I’ll have to tell you later…” and I replied with… “Oh, so there’s going to be a next time?” $buffer$guy$one shot me these eyes and said “Yea, why not?” I guess you could take that as passive, but, with the look, I assumed we would see each other again.

Train Wreck

Now enters $buffer$guy$two. This guy also seemed pretty neat. We made introductions, but, I continued to mostly chat with $buffer$guy$one. At one point in the conversation, $buffer$guy$one asks $buffer$guy$two what line of work they were in.

When $buffer$guy$two said his “title” it clicked. $buffer$guy$two and I had also connected in early August and still had not gotten around to meet. Ironically, just a few days before I had texted him an invite to go to IKEA.

As it all clicked, I pulled out my phone, pulled up that text conversation about going to IKEA and I said, “OMG IS THIS YOU??” $buffer$guy$two started to laugh, pulls out his phone, pulls up the text conversation, and said “OMG ITS YOU!”.

PS. He did not have my number saved in his phone. It was just, my phone number.

Small world.

The conversation eventually shifts and I go back to vibing and flirting with $buffer$guy$one and I get this text message from $buffer$guy$two.

Then, if you could guess. $buffer$guy$two gets up and moves to the open chair right next to me. At first, this wasn’t really a problem. But then the slight glance of our legs turned into this very aggressive pressure contest. Apparently, $buffer$guy$two wanted me to know he was touching my leg with his leg. He was very obvious.

So obvious in fact, it made me uncomfortable, and I used the excuse I was going to get a drink.

Eventually, $buffer$guy$one and I ended up on an outside patio and talking and I felt like really connecting. That vibe would be constantly jolted by $buffer$guy$two and a random bartender who was extremely handsy.

At one point the three of us were standing outside ($grindr$friend$one was nowhere to be found — so it was just myself and both buffer guys). $buffer$guy$one to my left and $buffer$guy$two to my right.

No, strike that. $buffer$guy$two was ON ME.. off to my right. What I’m trying to describe is… HE WAS ON TOP OF ME. He had his body ON MY BODY… and his HANDS on my body.

It got so bad, and do awawkard. I kept giving $buffer$guy$one the eye signal for “PLEASE SEND THE POLICE. HELP! I NEED HELP!”

It did not help. I got no assistance.

As I try to figure out what to do and how to get out of that situation. I yelled “You’re crowding me bro” to $buffer$guy$one who was clearly not. He yelled back, ‘you’re the one getting closer to me.’

I had no other options. I asked, “When is last call at this place… I’ll be back”.

Soon after I walked into the bar $buffer$guy$two walked in and sat down, he was eventually followed in by $buffer$guy$one. As I waited for the bartender, some random guy from the bar started talking me up.

As I hid from $buffer$guy$two talking with this newly introduced stranger, I couldn’t get back to $buffer$guy$one.

I think the new bar guy knew that I was getting ready to bail. He gave me his number. But, I never got a chance to get the number I really wanted from $buffer$guy$one.

I suppose the chase is on?

At one point toward the end of the evening… I closed out his ($buffer$guy$one’s bar tab). The bartender gave me the credit card that was holding his tab open, which I just stuck on the table in front of him.

There was something about the way he thanked me for buying his drinks that evening. It felt genuine and real.

Dear $buffer$guy$one. I hope you’re good at stalking!