8 May 2012

BENCH WARMER

So, I promised a blow by blow-job account of the date with The Rugby Player.

Never happened.

I know. I was totes looking forward to getting into a scrummy scrum with him.

Let's start from the beginning... After we met, I faced a barrage of text messages. Like, I mean rapid fire texting. Sometimes double up messages. And immediate responses - no three day curdle.

I was actually refreshed at the peachy keen beanness of this guy. That was until the day of the meet.

I texted in the morning a polite hello and what time he was thinking we should meet up. I remember doing a mental countdown in my head after I sent the text.

"And 5, 4, 3, 2, 1..."

No text.

"He's probably just in a meeting," I thought.

At 3pm my friend Chloe said, "OK. You have officially entered the danger zone." I love Chloe, she had been thinking about that statement the whole day and as mid-afternoon officially ticked over, she was ready to impart.

"You can be pissed, but you can be officially pissed at 6pm."

I felt more in control now that my emotions had a time frame.

"It must be just a really long meeting..." I said.

So 6pm came and so did my official pissyness.

He finally texted apologising that he had had the day from hell and that he didn't think he would be able to make it out until 9pm.

SO WHAT THEN?

The night ended at midnight with another apology about the non-date sitch and a promise to text the next day.

No text the next day.

Then on the Saturday he texted asking if I was free that night for a "catch up". Catching up on what? I've met you once. He also said he had just done a 10km run. Yeah, and I just caught the Circle Line with a change, but you don't hear me boasting about it.

Ignore.

Then he doubled up with another text, asking again if I was free. Late into the weekend another date was arranged for the coming week.

Take 2.

The day came and I sent another polite text, this time within the "danger zone" (thanks Chloe) and nothing.

Not even at 6pm. And still nothing.

This guy had a total SMS boner for me. He couldn't stop. Double teaming my phone with text messages sometimes 3 minutes apart. In the 4 days prior to our date he had texted me 25 times. 25! OK I'll admit even I was like, this could be a red flag, but after forming textual relationships with many men that were like shouting into an angry desert, I was willing to run that red flag up a pole and let it flutter in the breeze.

So where did all that go? Where did he go? How has my red flag been replaced with his red card?

Maybe I'll turn up to a rugby match and do a red flag dance as part of the half time entertainment to All That Jazz, screaming "Remember me!?"

*Gasp* Maybe he found the blog!

Definite red flag.

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