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I got completely emasculated yesterday playing ping pong. My confidence? It was low as I left the office last night to go home and get changed. In this life or the next, I will have my revenge on all those who have wronged me in the greatest basement game ever created. But all of that rage. All of that anger left my body as I hopped in a cab to a restaurant downtown last night. I had to let it go. It was necessary if I wanted to get a second date out of this.
Revenge is a fickle beast. If one can get revenge on another human being there, is always a sense of accomplishment. But that feeling of excitement – of completion for whatever it is you just did – it’s fleeting. And if you have any conscious whatsoever, there will be a period of reflection when you look back at what you’ve done and ask yourself if it was the right thing to do. If it was the correct way to handle the situation.
“I think we should just get it out of the way now…” she said as she took the last remaining edamame in the bowl.
“What?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“The kiss. The goodnight kiss. Let’s just get it out of the way now.”
The first thought that came to the forefront of my brain was that she was joking. Pulling a line straight from Minnie Driver in Good Will Hunting is either incredibly corny or extremely cool. I resisted the urge to say “I was hoping to get a goodnight laid” and conceded that, fine, I would oblige.
We hadn’t even gotten halfway through our first drink when we had a short, sober kiss next to the bar where onlookers must have been very confused. It was a Monday night, after all, and we were both just a few hours removed from work.
I’ve been told countless times that being petty is an awful way to live your life. But guess what? If I want to be petty than I’m going to be petty. It’s way easier than taking the high road and sometimes burning bridges is fun.
I’m petty when it comes to women. If something doesn’t go my way, I’ll tell myself that she was in the wrong just to make myself feel better. I’m not proud of it, but it’s a trait I can’t really suppress despite my best efforts. People deal with loss and rejection in different ways, and if acting like a petulant child is how I want to do deal with something then that is what I’m going to do.
So when I got this text message —
Heeeeyyyyy, what are you up to this weekend?
My first inclination was to set up a meeting with this girl and then blow her off. She stood me up and now she has the nerve to text me like nothing happened? Red Flag City, right? I should bury this girl. But for once, I took the high road. I decided that revenge was not necessary.
After requests from two different people (who will remain nameless) to keep details of the past few weekends sequestered from the readers, I knew that this would be an excellent opportunity for content. And if I’m being totally honest, it was. Plus I wasn’t doing anything following a relatively slow Monday at work.
If I blew this girl off would I really feel better about myself? I’ll never know the answer to this question, as I sat at my desk texting, thinking that the worst thing that could happen is that she blows me off again. If she did it again, after reaching out on her own accord, I’d have no choice but to respect it.
Normally, when a girl sends me a text message with a “hey” that has several Es and Ys in it, I know that I’m going to get laid. I have no evidence other than my own experiences to back this up, but I think it’s pretty much scientific fact that this is always the case.
This text message was different, though. I received it last Thursday, and it was from the girl who decided she was better off standing me up than meeting me for a drink four or so weeks ago. When I got the message, I had to let it marinate in my inbox for a few hours. I had to think this exchange through. I couldn’t come back with something totally rude, but I also felt like I needed to at least ask her why she had stood me up the other night.
hey, what happened to you a few weeks ago? I’m free Monday night if you’re up for drinks somewhere downtown
I was dumbfounded and not entirely sure how to play the situation. That was the text I went with. It wasn’t particularly strong or profound in any way, but it got me a date. We decided on sushi and a beer (which quickly turned into three) following work Monday. The date in question went off without a hitch. She explained to me that she was apprehensive to meet me because she had never been on a Bumble date before.
I said it was “totally understandable” and changed the subject quickly as I really didn’t care all that much. My brain, on the other hand, was chanting something rather sophomoric – “Buullllllshit! Buullllllshit! Buullllshit!”.
When the check showed up, I instinctively reached for it with my debit card already out. She grabbed the bill before I knew she had done so and gave the waiter her card for the appetizers and drinks. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t a little bit shook. We walked out of the restaurant, had another brief kiss, that, had it gone on any longer, would have been considered gross by onlookers.
“Do you want to get together this weekend?” I said as I moved away from her face.
“Eh, I don’t know, maybe. I’ll text you if I feel like it.”
My apartment sits just over a mile from where we had met for drinks. Despite a light drizzle, I opted to walk home, smiling ever so slightly as I did it. .
I’m Engaging In The Chase
This is a recurring PGP series. Catch up with all installments of I’m Engaging In The Chase by visiting the archive.