“I’m talking to 3 guys from Match. They answer my questions, but don’t keep the conversation going. It’s frustrating,” I texted to Reggie. He’s in Chicago and I’m in Dallas, but we talk or text nearly every day. He’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world; even if he does think that I’m a little bonkers.
“Talk to them,” Reggie texted back.
“May have to,” I replied.
“If there are more than 3 emails, I would rather talk,” Reggie typed.
“Noah asked me what day I was free, but he won’t commit until he sees how work goes this week. I hate people who won’t plan!” I texted. Noah is the guy that I’ve been texting for over 2 weeks now, but have not yet met in person.
“Workaholic,” Reggie replied.
I’ve dated workaholics before. One of the Mikes definitely fell into that category. He lived 5 minutes from my house and I didn’t see him for 2 weeks straight. I begged him to bring his laundry over, so that we can see each other while it was running. When he said, “No,” I knew that our relationship was over. I mean, I’d folded his laundry before; when you date someone for 2 years, you do stuff like that. But after 2 years, he wouldn’t drive 5 minutes to see me because he was spending all his time at work. Ya, that relationship was over.
I dodged the question by getting back to his comment about calling the guys. “I would rather meet in person. For me, nonverbal clues tell me more than words.” Kinda funny to hear from a blogger, right?
“Cannot plan if work takes up that many hours,” Reggie responded.
Ok, so he wasn’t going to let the workaholic thing go. I texted, “Right! He didn’t work this past weekend (he said), but nor did he ask me out.”
“True. The phone call is to see if you like their personality. Then meet them,” Reggie explained.
I wrinkled my nose. I don’t like talking on the phone; I can’t tell when the other person is about to say something, or what they really think about what I just said. It also hurts my ear to have a receiver pressed to it for too long.
However, Reggie did have a point; I might not want to meet the guy after I talk to him on the phone. Could save me the trouble of meeting them. But what if they’re just really bad on the phone, but awesome in person?
Reggie added, “Don’t over think it.”
Damn it, he knows me too well!
Reggie continued, “You pick a time that you want to meet and say you are free between this time and this time for an hour.”
“I’m not overthinking. Overthinking would be wondering if he was with another and keeping me as Plan B,” I responded. He didn’t need to know that I had been overthinking in a different direction.
“So what?” Reggie texted.
I continued, answering his previous text, “I told him Wednesday night. I’m seriously busy the other nights. Tomorrow, I’m meeting a guy and hope to sell the car. Gala will be here on Thursday night and I take her back to the airport on Friday. Saturday we’ll be in Austin, weather permitting.”
Then I thought about his So What. “I don’t want to be Plan B.”
Reggie said, “You make him Plan B or your preferred plan.” Reggie meant that I can make him Plan A or Plan B; it’s my choice. “But if he doesn’t commit by Tuesday, you are going with another guy.”
“I like it!” I answered. Instead of giving Noah the power to make me Plan B or make me wait until the last minute to tell me if he’ll take me out, I’m taking the power back. He has a deadline. If he doesn’t get back to me soon, he’ll be SOL. That’s an acronym which stands for, “Shit out of Luck.”
“That is the way I look at it. Until things get serious, he is simply a plan that is implemented if convenient. If I talk to a number of girls, there is always one I prefer. But if she isn’t available, I go down the list based on my interest in them or an activity I want to do, i.e. go for coffee or play miniature golf. Miniature golf wins almost every time. Coffee wins if I have free time before meeting a friend to do something else.”
I was laughing. One, Reggie doesn’t drink coffee. The one time that I convinced him to go into a Starbucks, he bought a non-caffeinated frozen concoction. Two, this text made him sound like a serious player. Which he is not. He hasn’t had a date in over a month and I can’t remember the last time that he got —uh—more than kissed. But his point was well taken: don’t count on the guy. If I want to do something, find someone else. If we get together, great. If not, shrug, there are other people to hang out with.
“Makes sense,” I texted, “Might not get to meet anyone this week; weather looks dangerous up to Saturday.”
“I figure I can always get a friend out of it. So even if she (my date) is not dating material, if she seems cool, I will meet her,” Reggie said. He meant it, too. He had kept in touch with more than one woman that he had met on Match, even though they had agreed not to date.
“I miss sex,” I told him.
“So do I, but I don’t miss the stress of all the crap that comes with it,” Reggie texted.
I laughed. So true! After sex, I have decide whether to go or stay (or if he’s at my house, kick him out or let him stay); whether this means that I’m in a relationship; etc.
I texted, “True. You are very insightful this evening.”
“I blame the pizza,” he answered.
I laughed again. He was in rare form!
He continued, “Dating is like animals hunting. Go for the slow and weak ones that you separate from the herd if you want to eat. Because the athletic alert ones are super hard to catch.”
“You’re a nut tonight!” I told him.
“Big girls need love, too,” he replied.
On that note…