Obviously, this doesn’t end well.
I mean, if it did, would it still be a series called “Chronicles of the Single Man”? No. It would be something like “Mildly Entertaining Musings of the Spoken-For Man” or “Tales of the Bored, But Having Sex with Fair Regularity Man”.
Before we get into the specifics of what actually occurred, I want to say I (honestly) have no ill feelings towards the woman at the heart of this story. It’s just that this sort of thing, what I’m about to describe, has happened to me a bunch in the last few years and specifically last few months and I find it beyond puzzling. So, without further ado…
It was a week or two or so ago. I decided that instead of doing the normal, “Let’s get drinks” routine (subtext: I don’t know if I want to commit to the time and money that “Let’s get dinner” implies”), I decided to see if this young lady wanted to go to the San Gennaro Festival in New York… and then get some drinks.
Not shockingly, she loved the idea. What human doesn’t like a carnival/fair atmosphere, teamed with drinking? Throw in the fact that unless you’re the most naïve person on the planet, you know that all that fun, for you, is free.
This has nothing to do with the evening but because it happened first and will come in to play later, it’s worth mentioning now that this girl showed up about a half hour late from when we agreed to meet. Wasn’t a big deal at all, she apologized profusely, I pretended like I was annoyed, I made fun of her and that was it.
As it would turn out, this gal was something else. Beautiful, intelligent, etc. We spent the whole night together, walked the length of Mulberry Street for the whole fair, drank a bottle of wine at a bar, hopped in a cab to another area of town to get a drink some where else, sat next to one another laughing and talking at the bar we found after walking for a while, hand-in-hand through the city and finally wrapped things up with a few make out sessions (the bar, two or three times on the street, etc.)
Again, if this wasn’t me and this wasn’t this specific series, you might think the story ended there (or, at least with this girl as my new girlfriend). Right? It seems fair to assume that type of evening (which, I should add, didn’t end til around 3:30 AM) would only have a good ending.
The next day, I texted something about how I had a great time and was jokingly sorry about keeping her out so late, she responds back with something about how it gets late quick when you’re 30 minutes late (and one of those stupid fucking smiley faces that girls seem to be obsessed with nowadays).
The following day I asked about hanging out again later in the week (which she had told me to do during one of those make out sessions a few days prior). The whole day goes by and eventually I got a text that, to summarize, said the following:
You are a great guy and I had a great time with you but I don’t see us working out. Best of luck!
I had/have no issue with the text. Frankly, I wish more girls (and guys) were that honest with the people they date. If you’re not interested, especially that early into a “relationship”, just say so. Women should take note–we’re like you… we just want to know. No need to play the game, just rip the band-aid off.
While the events of the evening leading to “I don’t think I like you like that” is an absolutely baffling sequence, I’m thrilled that this girl was straight up.
Of course, if she was being totally honest, the text may have read something like this:
You really aren’t that great of a guy and I had a good time, in comparison to how little else I had to do that night, but when I woke up and thought about you in the light of sobriety, I realized that the thought of having sex with you repulses me to a degree I can’t fully explain.
That’s what she should’ve said.
Either way, I’m glad she said something.