By Aubrie Smith, copy editor.
I’ve never been that obsessive girl.
When I first meet someone, and I’m even semi-interested in them, the part of my brain that tells me to talk to them deactivates.
I’m not “smooth,” as they say; I have no game. But I’m okay with that.
Once upon a few months ago, I had a Tinder account– classy, I know. I met this cute guy, and we started messaging. The classic Tinder story.
After a few days of messaging all hours of the night, we decided to go on a date. I should probably use that term loosely, but either way, I was excited. We seemed to have a lot in common, he had a full time job, he seemed ambitious– we seemed to click.
I don’t remember where we ate, but I guess that doesn’t matter. We spent the majority of dinner talking about things we enjoyed, laughing, and making fun of our high school selves. We knew a lot of the same people, and realized that we’d been at a lot of the same events. Things seemed to be going well; until they weren’t.
After dinner, he invited me back to his place. You can draw your own conclusion to where this seemed to be going, but in the moment, I got no sexual vibes, so I went.
We sat on his couch and talked for almost an hour until we ran out of things to talk about. This is where things began to go downhill. Call me old school, but first dates should never be boring. Even if they’re simple, you should never feel like you want to leave out of pure boredom. But here I was, at this random dudes house, ready to bang my head against the wall.
I don’t know if I expected something magical to happen, but for whatever reason, I stayed for a while. I think I just felt too awkward to get up and walk out. Did he think this was going well? Did he have some plan to make things fun again? He didn’t.
After another hour of literal silence, and scrolling on our phones, I finally left. Anyone who knows me personally knows that I can’t do anything quietly. I’m not a soft-spoken individual. So, by my nature, I made this incredibly awkward. While I was stumbling down the stairs, the guy smiled at me and said, “I’ll text you tomorrow.”
I got in my car, and drove far far away.
I think four or five days went by before I realized that he never texted me. I have a hard time connecting with people, and cutting individuals out of my life has become something of habit. I didn’t develop enough of an interest in this guy to care if he ever texted me again.
A few days later, I got a message from one of our mutual acquaintances asking me how the date went. I was pretty honest. It was awful. We didn’t click. It was super boring.
They then let me know that this guy, who told me he would text me, blocked me on every social media, for he thought I was going to stalk him afterwards.
I don’t know if that transition is equally as shocking as a third party, but to me, it came out of nowhere. I remember laughing so hard, I could almost feel my lungs collapse.
And, because I had to see it for myself, I ran to Facebook. Sure enough, I could see nothing. This kid even went as far as to block me on Tinder. Who does that?
Months have gone by, and I still laugh about this. Sometimes I feel like more of our mutual acquaintances actually believe that I’m a crazy stalker than I realize. But if they believe that for a second, they’re just as dumb as that guy was.
Moral of the story, not everyone is crazy. You Tinder goers need to open your eyes. A bad date is a bad date. Not everyone is going to be obsessive afterwards. Go out and hook up, create an adventure, find the love of your life. But to do that, try not to assume the worst– though it does make a funny story.
