Spiteful Texting

R.B. Winters
R.B. Winters
All, Bull Shit, Dating Leave a Comment

I’ve slacked off when it comes to blogging this past year. I’d like to blame it on my extended stay in Puerto Rico and things being less exciting. At one point, it even crossed my mind to document my PR adventure, which I do a little now and then, but it’s really not that different from New York. I mean, yes, I’m the minority as a pale face and my Spanish is embarrassingly terrible, but still not that different from NYC.

The only big change, which is impacting the amount which I write and gossip about online is my lack of dating. The number of dates I go on is directly proportionate to the amount of crap I spew on here. So, after many, many, many months of hanging out with the cat, I had a date.

I mentioned the guy briefly in a previous post, The Professor. Nice guy. But I find myself being stubborn and uninterested. Let me rewind a week or so. Prof. told me for the millionth time he thought I worked too much. The first time it was kind of cute. One of those, oh you might give a shit about me moments. The second time it was annoying. The second time I made it Crystal Pepsi clear that work is a large part of my life. And if I have no issue with the amount I work, no one else gets a say in the hours I keep. A polite go fuck yourself. Also, this is familiar territory. Like when my friends in NYC were bitching about my decision to live in PR.

The third time Prof. made mention of the work issue was when a work dinner took place on a Friday. We had plans and yes I cancelled. I will pick work over a date. Though I did invite him, and don’t blame him for declining. His lengthy text message was annoying, trying to explain to me why my priorities are incorrect. I did let it go, no argument, no angry calls or texts in return. Then two days later I sent what I meant to be a cute, but what was possibly a desperate/pathetic text, “I don’t hear from you all weekend? :(” I used the emjoi, don’t hate me.

Prof. waited four days to reply. That’s when it was clear we were playing a game. At twenty-five I was all about playing. At thirty-one I have better ways to spend my time. When Prof. did finally reach out, it was a simple, “Hi.” I replied back a simple, “Hello.” Even if I don’t want to speak to you, I will respond. There is nothing more obnoxious or rude, than the person who never replies. (That would be Late Night for example.) Friday arrived and he asked if I wanted to get a drink or coffee. I politely declined. Then Saturday arrived and his texts were perky, too perky. Even on my best day, I’m not perky.

He finally asked if I was angry with him. I told him I was irritated with him. I’m not actually angry, but I would like him to go away. Not in the sense that he needs to not exist, but in the sense that maybe down the road we can be friends, but for the here and now I’d rather read a book and rub my pussy [cat]. To my comment, he asked if I wanted to talk about it in person or via text. I told him, “Honestly neither.”

In person would almost certainly be a mistake. I seem to have a magical way of accidentally driving a person into hysterics when confronted in person. Probably because I don’t have the same level of emotional reaction. If you want to see me react, tell me Starbucks is closed. I’ll react!

I’m right back where I started, before the Prof. and any dates, and it’s exactly where I want to be for the moment. Alone, yes. Single, yes. Wine, yes please!