Oops, I did it again. Turned my dating life into another Saturday Night Live skit. It takes real talent, trust me.
I share my latest misadventure in dating as to impart the wisdom I may or may not have found in its aftermath, while texting the story to my girl squad accompanied by a crying with laughter emoticon. And yes, even 40-somethings can have girl squads.
Here’s how the skit breaks down in its comical entirety:
ACT 1: Go out with a guy who actually wants to see you right away again, get totally thrown off by his straightforwardness, so, of course, proceed to brunch with him and tell him while he’s great, you just aren’t in “dating mode” right now.
ACT 2: End up texting back and forth with him afterwards anyway, getting a kick out of his witty humor (oh, you’re a sucker for witty humor) and realize you may have been a bit hasty in your earlier decision because you find yourself texting him back rather quickly.
ACT 3: Wind up eventually making plans with him for a date night, only to get a lunch time text saying he has to cancel due to other forgotten plans.
ACT 4: Get thoroughly annoyed at said canceled date night because you’d actually been looking forward to it. Accept his apology and request for another day and time, only to give him one and not hear from him for an entire week. Become so annoyed when the last text finally arrives that you never respond at all. Chapter closed.
ACT 5: Chapter reopened. You respond to general texts a couple of weeks later that are clearly meant to gauge any remaining interest. You take the bait.
ACT 6: Decide asking him for spur of the moment happy hour drinks one evening is a good idea. Which turns into a happy hour to midnight affair with his squad, a sleepover and a mad dash out the door the next day. No, we are not talking about a walk of shame, though your contacts are dried out from sleeping in them and you probably left mascara on his pillow.
ACT 7: Subsequently, you decide you might really like this guy. Become mortified at ACT 6. Proceed to overthink the whole happy hour evening, because you’re pretty sure you were 100% yourself which hasn’t proven successful in your dating life so far, text him to get coffee, don’t hear back within 5 hours so send a text that is completely cray cray. One about how you are sorry you had one too many, thanks for being a gentleman and that his friends were a good bunch. Oh and the icing on the cake, you wish him well.
ACT 8: After getting no response (really how could you expect one), a week later send an apology text for being weird. Guy divulges he had no idea how to respond. That’s the end of it...
ACT 9: ... or was until ACT 9. You decide there’s no harm in texting him again while you’re out in his neighborhood at a decent hour. He promptly texts you he’s out of town. While all signs have pointed to the fact that this has been a misadventure in dating from the get-go, you decide you’ll tell him you miss his company and if he wants to see you again to let you know. Crickets.
ACT 10: Saving the best for last, you’ve made the mistake of thinking he was a) still into you somewhat despite all evidence to the contrary and b) wasn’t dating anyone else throughout this entire scenario (you really should’ve listened to your instinct and your friend’s husband by the way.) Because you wake up in the AM to find a Facebook pic of him with another girl at said out-of-town location.
Yes, my friends that is how this story ends.
May it provide the following lessons so we can all avoid becoming SNL skits of our own making.
- Trust your instinct. If you don’t, you can only blame yourself.
- Don’t be afraid to say what’s on your mind. Life is short.
- Listen to your friends’ husbands. They are always right.
- Don’t overthink. It ruins everything.
- Don’t freak out. That also ruins everything.
- Don’t send ridiculous texts. You can’t take them back.
- Give yourself a break. Someone will like the 100% you eventually.
- Asking someone you like if they want to have coffee never sounds good. Never.
- Dating mishaps happen for a reason. Believe it.
- Live and learn. Next.