You know what they say.
Get mauled once, shame on you. Get mauled twice…
Recall a few weeks ago (before a shameful pause in blogging) when my poor face took the brunt of an attack from a hopelessly clueless – or so I thought – offline/online dater we’re calling Q.
Well, this attack had a less than happy ending.
As background to the rest of the story, I should probably divulge my weakness: rejecting other people. Or, rather, the fact that I don’t do it. It’s terrible, but true. Rather than call someone I barely know, and have spent a collective few hours with over the course of a few dates, I tend to just go cold turkey: no returning calls or texts. No explanation. It’s what I like to call “falling off the face of the earth,” or more accurately, “you kind of give me the creepies so I’m going to pretend all this never happened.”
It’s not something I’m proud of.
So fast forward to post-face-mauling. I pretty much decide right then and there as I shut the door that I’m going to pretend Q never existed. The thought of the whole incident still makes me a bit queasy.
In the days that followed, Q sent over a few texts, which left me shocked: did he think that was actually…fun? Or more importantly, that it was…pleasurable? Eesh.
In the name of trying to correct my wrongs and begin not to ignore dates that have gone badly, I returned some of his texts with short, curt, non-committal replies (eg – Q, 4:03 p.m: “I just saw Sherlock Holmes in the middle of the day (class canceled) and thought it was amazing-esp the bulldog, and mcadams. My opinion of rdj did a 180-I think it was just iron man that confused me.” Me, 5:57 p.m: “cool“)
I let a few texts go by unanswered. And then I made the mistake of not answering a mid-week text asking specifically if I could hang out that Thursday or Saturday. Woops. And then there was a follow up phone call. Yeah, that went unreturned, too. To be fair, I did have a wonderfully fantastic college friend in town that weekend. (To be honest, I had no intention of returning the call.)
And then on Wednesday, this email came in through the online dating service I’m using:
5:15 p.m.: “Radio silence–I’m thickheaded and not entirely sure how to take it, so you gotta let me know* (sic) So, are you free to get together Sat or Sun? I don’t think there are more exotic seafood appetizers than what we had, so that’s off the list, but there is plenty more to do. Q”
Now, I’m a busy lady and it’s not like I check online dating sights at work. When I got this late Wednesday evening, I was planning on responding. But then I fell asleep. And then Thursday rolled around, but before I could answer, another message popped up in my inbox less than 24 hours later:
Thursday, 2:47 p.m. “For an aspiring journalist, you have a serious lack of cojones. Good luck* (sic)”
And then less than an hour after that one:
Thursday, 3:02 p.m. “That was harsh, sorry–what I meant is that I’m not in favor of the ‘not returning correspondence’ variety of letting someone know you aren’t interested, esp after 2 dates. I think a quick text rejection, even w/o a reason, works fine. You might have been intending to eventually & if so I apologize. Anyway good luck, bye.”
At this point, I do respond. A quick apologetic note. Send it off, think nothing of it, nor do I expect to get a response. BUT THEN!
I get an immediate response. From the online dating sight. Q HAS BLOCKED ME.
I go to bed that night irritated and pretty turned off. The next day, I turned to my resident dating guru and partner in crime – lets call her R, for roar.
R had several brilliant points:
– this man is obviously off his rocker
– how dare he attack my career. And as for being a journalist with cojones, my resume speaks for itself
– what is it with people who get aggressively on the defense when people don’t immediately respond to communication – hello Mr. Law Student, do you realize that this girl has a job, a social life and has to eat and sleep? Sorry if there were 15 hours that went by before she responded to your email, but for the love of dating, open a bottle of wine and relax.
So there you have it. Online dating = mauled faces and mauled inboxes. Proceed with caution.
Up next: tales of a third date with an online/offline contender, a run-in with an ex and his new lady and an upcoming first date with a man from overseas.
Stay tuned, and until then, I leave you with this diagram, courtesy of another fantastic friend of mine (i’ll call her Mandolin) of love, life and the intersection of the two.