Great date, terrible texts

I keep not getting around to writing about what happened with More Than Average Joe. I think it’s because I’m a bit disappointed and perplexed by it. But I should conclude things, otherwise it’ll give me the Zeigarnik Effect!

So, we met and kissed in a club, and exchanged numbers. I really enjoyed chatting to him – it felt like we really clicked, and kissing him was great.

He texted me that night, at about 4am. I replied in the morning.

We texted each other all weekend.

He kept taking a while to reply, but then seemed interested and asked questions to keep the conversation going, so I implemented The Formula to help me play it cool.

On the Sunday, I went to see the film ‘It comes at night’ with my friend and former date, Open Relationship Guy.

It was a good film, but absolutely brutal – a post-apocalyptic film about trust and suspicion.

When I came out of the cinema, More than Average Joe had texted me asking if I had any other hidden talents, as our last texts had been about our hobbies.

I had a few more drinks with OR Guy in the cinema bar. I was much more drunk than I expected when we left.

I replied to his message asking about hidden talents saying “It comes at night”, which I thought was absolutely hilarious at the time, but regretted in the morning.

Later that week, the texts were petering out, so I took the bull by horns and asked if he wanted to meet for a drink.

He replied “yeah sure, sounds fun.”

I thought well fuck you then! and archived the chat on Whatsapp, because he hadn’t said anything about where or when, so I assumed his response was a brush-off.

However, a few days later he sent a follow-up saying “we could do something this weekend.”

So we arranged to meet that Saturday, for a drink.

I was looking forward to it. I spent ages epilating my legs that afternoon, which made me feel resentful, because I doubted his pre-date preparations were that extensive or painful. Also, I discovered a whole panel of my leg where the hairs couldn’t be removed, because they were ingrown hairs; there was a thin layer of skin covering the hairs, so the epilator couldn’t get them out. I had to break the skin and tweeze out each hair individually.

I felt chirpy on the way there. It was nice to be going on a first date with someone I had already met and knew I fancied.

I arrived at the pub I had suggested and did a quick circuit, but he wasn’t there yet.

I had suggested this pub, because I had gone there with my friend recently, and we’d had a nice dinner together. However, as I nervously waited, I doubted my choice; it smelt weird and seemed too loud to talk.

Normally I arrive last on a date, as there’s often a last minute Makeup Emergency or something, but I guess usually, if I got there first, I’d buy a drink and wait. For some reason, I didn’t want to do that this time, so I went back outside and waited there.

As I stood, leaning against the pub wall, he texted me saying he was running a few minutes late. I couldn’t 100% remember his exact face, and his Whatsapp picture was annoyingly of the back of his head, so every time a guy walked past, I took a deep intake of breath and thought is that him?!

He arrived a few minutes later, and hugged me. He apologised for being late, which was apparently because his flatmate was moving out and her parents arrived and started talking to him just as he was leaving.

I did a speech about how much nicer the pub had been last time I was there. He made me feel like I was being very funny and cool, which was nice. We went inside, and found somewhere to sit, where it wasn’t too loud to talk.

He reassured me he did like the pub.

After we sat down, the conversation quickly got onto music. It felt like it was going well. The conversation was flowing easily and we seemed to agree on a lot. I felt like I could really be myself – when I was deciding what to say, and I was choosing between the more normal option, or the more extreme Dater Analysis version, I was choosing the more extreme version and each time it seemed to go down well.

For example, we were talking about Spotify, and the Daily playlists it creates for you. I was deciding whether to say “the playlists are really good. I like them.” Or whether to say something I’ve said to friends before, about how I like to imagine a group of music nerds huddled around a computer, creating a playlist for me, saying things like “Guys, don’t forget she listened to Moby the other day, how about this track next…” but I think really the playlists are made by a computer program.

I went with talking about the huddling music nerds, and he laughed loads.

We talked about our jobs, and I found it interesting more about law and what it’s like being a solicitor. I talked for longer about Psychology and he seemed really interested.

In the early part of the night, a few times, when he was talking, it seemed like he got distracted, and he would pause for a moment. However, he was making really good eye contact each time it happened, and it gave the impression that he was distracted by me or my face. It did feel like applying my makeup had gone well that evening, so I decided to take it as a compliment.

After a while, we decided to have something to eat, and moved to a different table, as we had been sitting on a sofa.

Our conversation had got onto quite serious topics, related to mental health, like the suicide rate, or issues related to the NHS, or asylum seekers.

I went to the toilet, and when I came back, I said “Sorry, I’ve just realised we’ve been talking about really heavy-going things. Let’s talk about more lighthearted stuff.”

He said “No, I like it, it’s interesting!” Within a few minutes, he had brought the conversation back onto something heavy again, like Neo-Nazis.

His phone rang, and it was his mum. He went out for a few minutes to speak to her. I think I thought it was sweet, but I’m not 100% sure that’s what I thought.

When he came back, we talked about our families. It seems like his mum worries a lot. He described his dad not being very communicative or demonstrative.

Towards the end of the night, we got onto politics. Although we have similar views and support the same political party, he had some incorrect opinions, and I’m afraid he did get quite extensively schooled on why he was wrong about Jeremy Corbyn.

Again, I caught myself and apologised more than once, but he said he really liked talking about things like that, especially with someone who cares about it.

As it started getting late, he said “do you want to go for a walk?” It reminded me of the way someone at a school disco would say “shall we go outside for some air?”

I said I needed to get my train soonish, so he could walk me back to the station if he wanted.

We walked to Marylebone, and went past a Beatles shop. I tried to get the conversation onto the Beatles, because I thought that was more conducive to kissing than critiquing the Labour Party’s manifesto.

Somehow, by the time we reached Marylebone, we were very intently discussing the Jacob Rees-Moog, and whether he will be the next leader of the Tories.

We both registered we were at my destination, and nervously shifted from foot to foot. Jacob Rees-Moog is definitely not conducive to kissing.

One of us said something about going on another date, and the other agreed enthusiastically, but I can’t remember who said what.

We both paused. I suspected he wanted us to kiss, but wasn’t sure how to make it happen.

After an awkward moment, I said “do you want do some kissing?”

He laughed and kissed me. It was a good kiss. Halfway through the kiss, he started laughing, and said “Sorry, I just think it’s really funny that you said that.”

Then he kissed me again for a minute or so.

When the kiss ended, I said “you’re really good at that!” and then added “anyway, I’d better get my train!”

I strutted away, feeling like the coolest person that ever lived.

The reason I’m disappointed and perplexed, is that was a few weeks ago, and we’ve barely texted since.

He takes ages to reply, so I then do the same. He sent one message after days of silence, saying “are you up to much this weekend?” which made it seem like he might be edging towards another date, but then he never replied to my reply.

Everything he did on the date made it seem like he was keen, but his texts, or lack of, give the opposite impression. 

Part of me wonders if he’s just not very good at texting – the first time, I assumed he didn’t want a date until he sent the follow-up message.

He said his dad isn’t communicative; apparently they have a family Whatsapp group and his dad just never says anything at all. It’s possible he’s being rubbish at texting because it’s what he’s seen.

But equally, he may just not like me that much!

Never mind.



4 thoughts on “Great date, terrible texts

  1. Ugh! I get really annoyed with bad texters. And there are so many of them! It’s too bad, too – it sounds like you had a great date.

    I had many dating experiences like this one and eventually got too frustrated to continue. If someone doesn’t make an effort with regular communication, I move on quickly. It sucks… but I can’t do all the work.

    Liked by 2 people

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