I was all set to tell you about the time I brought an OKCupid date to a comedy open mic, but we’ll have to save that for another day, because I think I’m getting ghosted. If you don’t know what the term “ghost” or “ghosted” means, you’ve lived a charmed life. In all honesty, I didn’t know what it meant until the guy who was my first kiss straight up told me he had ghosted me. For all of you happy, attractive, and desirable people who don’t know what it means, it means when someone you’ve either been texting or seeing aborts all contact, seemingly out of nowhere.
In my case, I met a guy on Bumble. Bumble is the app where the girl has to message first. In one of his pictures he had just run a marathon, and was wearing a bib number. So I opened with what I can only describe as pure genius. I said, “So are you a runner, or do you just like wearing numbers on your shirts?” I know, I know, you all want to date me now. Then he responded, “I just like wearing short shorts and numbers on my shirts. The numbers help me remember how old I am.” Wow, can anybody else hear the wedding bells? Over the next few days, our conversation can only be described as the best back-and-forth I’ve ever had.
We made plans to hang out the next Sunday, and he seemed super into it. We started talking on a Sunday, and Monday-Friday he texted me first, asking me how my day was and if I was doing any comedy that night. Then Saturday rolled around, and nothing. I texted him to see if we were still on for our Sunday plans, and it took him all day to respond (which, I have to say, made him 100 times more attractive to me, because I want someone who doesn’t like me). When he eventually did, he said he was sick, and he didn’t know if we would be able to hang out.
I sincerely hoped he was sitting by a toilet throwing up, and not just chatting to a hotter girl. My friends suggested I change our first date location to Urgent Care to see if that changed his mind. But honestly, in this economy, Urgent Care is a bit out of my price range. We continued to chat a little bit more, and we made plans to hang out again this coming Friday. But we haven’t talked in a couple days, and I need to learn to take a hint. It’s actually not that I can’t take a hint, it’s rather that I take it, and refuse to accept it. Like that time a guy was ghosting me, so I texted “I CAN TAKE A HINT!” and then continued to text him.
In honor of the guy who is now a ghost, I’d like to recount one of our best exchanges:
Me: “Let me give you my mom’s number. You guys can be in touch. She’ll get you a better job. Or would your prefer my dad’s?”
Him: “Can’t hurt to have both, right?”
(I then put in their real numbers, plus my own number)
Him: “I’m going to start using them as my emergency contacts from now on.”
Me: “Good. They could use some more excitement in their lives. I don’t call them enough.”
If you couldn’t tell, I was trying to be funny by giving him my parents’ numbers, while also letting him know I was interested by giving my number. If you’re wondering if I’m going to start an online advice series because this was so brilliant, let’s wait until I actually succeed.
RIP Bumble guy
Filed under: Dating