“Didn’t your parents teach you better than that?”

Last night I went out again with J. to her local bar — not to drink, but just to get out of the house and spend some time with J.  As always, though we weren’t there too late, it was a highly entertaining evening. 

First, we spotted our good friend TL, in all his beige-jacket-over-a-T-shirt finest.  You’ll recall that he had sent me the lovely text of “Did we meet last night?” after the last time I chatted with him.  Sure enough, last night he looked straight at me and smiled with not even the vaguest hint of recognition.  He appeared to have charmed some (unsurprisingly, intoxicated) girl into hanging out with him.  I wanted to warn her, but J. advised me not to ruin things for the poor girl who was clearly enjoying her misconception that he’s a cool guy.

Then, even worse, I ran into The Bad Texter.  I had met him 3 weeks before, he had sent me a few badly spelled texts, and I had never followed up with him.  I spotted him, and oh-so-maturely, I swiveled and ran in the opposite direction and then cowered upstairs.  Eventually I realized that I was going to run into him eventually and that I needed to just suck it up, so J. and I headed back downstairs and I prepared to face the music.

Sure enough, before long I found myself face to face with him.  He looked at me and whined, “You never texted me back!”  “I know, I apologize,” I replied.  “No you don’t,” he said.  “If you apologized, you would have texted me back.  That’s rude.  Your parents taught you better than that, didn’t they?  Why didn’t you text me back?  Be honest.”

I hemmed and hawed a bit, and when I realized that he wasn’t going to let this one slide, I replied, “Like I told you last time we met, I’m taking a break from dating.”

Oh boy.   I had no idea what kind of floodgates that was going to open.  I then was regaled with a speech about how women are irrational, why was I imposing some artificial rules on myself, blah blah blah.

I didn’t tell him, of course, that if I met the right guy I would consider ending the mancation, but he wasn’t it.

At any rate, for the next half hour or so, Bad Texter alternated between bitchy (“Fine, it’s your decision!  Whatever!”)  and sweet (“I just couldn’t stop thinking about you!”)  When J. and I went to say our goodbyes, he asked, “So if I text you this week, will you text me back this time?”  This guy just won’t take no for an answer!  Luckily J. chimed in with, “She can’t date you!  She’s on a mancation!”   He was annoyed (J. got a not-quite-joking finger) but I think he finally got the point.  Whew.

Ah, the fragile male ego.

Tonight I am having dinner at Knittinkins’ abode and get to see her father, who has sort of adopted me into the family (after all, I did live with 2 of his daughters for 4 years), and apparently reads my blog! 

Have a lovely weekend!