I Called A Girl Out For Ghosting And It May Have Worked

I Called A Girl Out For Ghosting And It May Have Worked

Aziz Ansari has a bit about how we all would prefer if other people were honest with us but instead we’re all shitty people and just end up ignoring someone when we get asked out by someone we’re not interested in. It’s certainly not better than the “I’m kind of seeing someone,” which we all know is a lie but at least it acknowledges that you’re a human who exists. I think I’m in the majority who prefer any type of response, whether it be a lie or some form of honesty, like “I think we’re better off as friends,” which got dropped on me recently by a four-tool Prospect. Because if you ask someone out – put yourself out there (albeit in text message form for like 99.9% of millennials) – you deserve at least something sent back. If you’re straight up ignored, if you get ghosted on, it fucking blows donkey dick.

Ladies, it’s not easy to just ask someone for a drink or to sushi. We’ve been genetically programmed to fear rejection, so overcoming that genomic hurdle every time we ask you out takes some cohones. And yes, getting rejected is disappointing, but being flat out ignored is even worse. It’s immature and humiliating, and yet it still happens.

Sidenote: I’m not talking about reaching out on Tinder or Hinge or other dating apps and getting no response. I’m talking you’ve either a.) met the person before and got a phone number the old fashioned way or b.) you met on a dating app or site, exchanged numbers and carried the convo on to real texting.

I’ve certainly been ghosted on before. Recently, I met a girl on the subway at like 2 a.m., we flirted, she gave me her number and seemed pretty on board with getting a drink. Then she ghosted when I texted her. It sucked, but you need a short memory in the dating game. Like a shortstop who boots an easy 6-4-3 double play ball, you need to forget it and move on to the next play. But this past week, I got ghosted on in a really bizarre way, which put my mind in a pretzel for a week to the point where I needed to know why I got ghosted. And I think I got a date out of it.

I matched with a cute grad student (and based on intel from her profile, a Southern Jew… swish) a few weeks ago on a dating app and opened with my patented “MFK: Brunch, Sushi, Chipotle.” Anyone who doesn’t immediately kill Chipotle is a lunatic who shouldn’t be trifled with. If we’re killing Chipotle, the conversation should flow naturally. This particular gal married sushi, so that’s where I took the conversation. We chatted a little and then I told her to pick either her favorite sushi spot or mine for an upcoming date. We chose the spot, but couldn’t pick a date. She was leaving town in a few days and the days she had available I couldn’t make it, so I got her number and said I would reach out later that week. I went about my week, logging some late nights in the office and looking forward to sushi and sake with a southern belle. I finally reached out:

Me: Hey, it’s Improper Brostonian. Hope you had a good weekend. Have a nice trip and let me know when you’re back and we’ll grab sushi!

Her: Hey Imroper Brostonian! I did, thanks : ) Hope you did too! Sounds great.

Then nothing for almost a week, so I took the ball into my court.

Me: Hey! How was your trip? We should grab sushi this week.

Silence. Ten days of it. This wouldn’t be so unusual if we’d met at the bar or something. But the fact that we met on a dating app, both of us consciously swiping right, then engaging in a conversation which led to plans to a date, a number exchange, all of it, then a ghost? We really hadn’t talked much, so I didn’t think it was something I said. And if she stalked me on social media she’d have seen the way I look in my app pics are exactly what I look like in real life (a ruggedly handsome Jew boy built like a DIII fullback). I couldn’t wrap my head around the ghosting. After the ten days of silencio, it had eaten away at me. I had to know. I had to know why I’d been ghosted on. So I took a shot from Steph Curry range and asked her.

Me: Hey, I’m not planning on getting a response from this; if I get one, great, if not, I’m in the same place I started. I’m doing a little market research to improve my dating game. Why’d you ghost on me? I was pretty excited we matched because I thought your profile was awesome and thought you’d be the kind of person I’d want to bother to get to know. Thought we would have a good time getting sushi or drinks or whatever. And it seemed like you were on board w/ the idea and then you ghosted. It’s not like I’ve never done it or been ghosted before, but never after someone agreed to meet up.

Then I turned my phone off and got on a Boston-bound flight out of San Francisco. In retrospect, not the brightest idea because it would appear based on the timestamps that she responded immediately, then got nothing back from me for six hours and I came across as a ghoster. Oops.

But she responded, and apologized like crazy for not responding. I’m not going to go into the details, but she said she got distracted and she’d understand if I didn’t want to go through with the date. I’ve got to be honest, I was flabbergasted that I was able to resuscitate the conversation, and I think we’re going to get together next week.

Next time you get ghosted, don’t have too much pride for the double text or the Steph Curry shot from deep, because you never know why someone ghosted on you. At the end of the day, what do you got to lose?

Image via Unsplash

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Boston Max

Spending my retirement fund at Trader Joe's and trying to remember to check my mailbox semi-regularly

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