Saturday rolls around. We have dinner again, same great conversation. She asks if we could go back to my place.
Same thing– shirt comes off… we start making out, she backs up and mentions the “3rd date” policy. No problem! Let’s call it a night. She says she wants to see me again… Next Saturday. It’s a date, I say!
(For me the 3rd date rule is absolute ignorant nonsense, but given the circumstances I’ll let this one slide.)
Next Saturday rolls around. It’s raining. She says she doesn’t want to make the 35-40 minute drive out to my place. Can we push to Wednesday? Sure… No problem.
Wednesday arrives. She’s sick. Can we push to Saturday? She says, “I swear, we’re going to get together on Saturday! Don’t hate me!”
Ohhkay. I’m starting to get a bit bothered by her kicking the can down the road. We stay in touch that week, and I mention that I’d like to cook for her. She says that sounds awesome. That Saturday morning, I go to a Farmer’s Market and buy a bunch of top-notch produce and steaks. I think I drop probably $100. I wind up scoring a couple of nice bottles of wine, too. I text her around noon, and let her know I’m excited about tonight. I’m supposed to pick her up at 5:00.
No response. I wait an hour and text again.
Wait another hour, text, no response. WTF?
Finally, at 4:30, she calls me. She says she’s not ready for a relationship, and she wants to cancel the date.
…Gee, thanks. You couldn’t have told me that maybe a week ago, or at any point before you said you’d like me to cook for you, and I spent over $100 on stuff to do it?
This sucks. I wind up inviting a platonic friend over, cooking for her, and we wind up playing games. The night wasn’t a loss due to Tara cancelling, but it certainly wasn’t the night I’d hoped for. I was a bit miffed over the way she cancelled, so I unfriended her on Facebook. I thought that was going to be the end of it. I didn’t hate her or anything, but I wasn’t really interested in staying connected to her after her abrupt cancellation and lack of an apology.
A few months later, she messages me. Not even a “how are you,” or anything. She asks if I happen to have a cell phone that works on the Sprint network. As a matter of fact, I did. I tell her that if she can make the drive down to my neck of the woods, we can meet up, and I’d give it to her. She says that the doctor changed her glasses prescription, and she can’t really drive at night, the only time she’s free. I tell her that I could mail it to her if she wanted to send me the money to mail it. She says, “I would, but I’m flat broke right now.”
Fine… whatever. It’s $5 to throw the thing in a box and send it to her. I’ve already got bubble wrap and stuff, no big deal. I’ll get to it when I get to it. She proceeds to pester me every day for the next few days:
“Is it in the mail? What’s the tracking number? When am I going to get the phone? I really, really, really need that phone.”
Damn… chill out! I said I’d get to it when I get to it. Finally, I mail the damn thing off. She gets it the next day, according to the tracking number. Do I even get a “thanks”?
Okay, so she’s starting to turn out like she’s a user. She’s not getting 3 strikes with me. I block her on Facebook, but I forget: I still have her number, and she has mine.
About a year later, I catch wind that she got pregnant by a guy who bailed. Sucks for her, I guess, but then out of the blue I get this gem of a text message:
“Can you send me $25 via PayPal? I really need to buy my baby diapers.”
Uhh… how about no? I don’t want to be ugly, but I tell her that after that cancelled date and not even getting a thanks for sending her that phone, which I didn’t have to do, I have a really bad taste in my mouth from her. I said I didn’t appreciate it how the only time I hear from her is when she needs something.
She has the nerve to get indignant and say that I’m heartless for not helping her with her baby. I’m not having it. I just block her number and get on with my life.
So much for all of the excitement of a missed connection from several years ago, eh?
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