8 Rules of Texting While Dating

Did you know it was Swingers who created the law of waiting three days before texting your date? Though it potentially separates the cool ones from the clingy ones, this rule of dating texting is outdated in the current dating scenario. Considering how well connected we are now, thanks to technology, this thumb rule of dating is sort of backdated. I mean we all know how many hours we spend looking at our smartphones.

Yes, you read that right. There are rules of dating texting that can actually make of break your relationship. Texting etiquettes are ever evolving. Texting is the pre-game shenanigan. Monosyllabic replies don’t always mean disinterest. In the same time, little to no time replies does not necessarily mean they are super interested in you. Dating texting is an upgrading game you need to keep up. If you have been out of the game for a while, chances are you missed out on a few upgrades.

But not to worry. We have got you covered. We have researched far and wide to get you the 8 priceless rules of dating texting, so you know what are the right keys to press.

8 Golden rules of Dating Texting

Here are a few rules for texting-while-dating. These rules of dating texting will get you in the game and keep you there.

1. Plz do nt type lyk dis

A major turnoff. Considering how fast you are on the keyboard, you can spend a few extra minutes to type out the complete words, instd of lyk dis. Unless you are attempting to crudely execute the Thesaurus and your date’s interest in you, avoid typing abbreviations – spend a few extra minutes to spell out the entire word.

Check for your autocorrected words. Don’t let excited become irritated.

give attention to grammar while texting

Check if they are meme-friendly. If they do respond with the same enthusiasm with the millennial culture, start incorporating them slowly into your texts to keep things cool. Do not make texting an excuse to misspell words.

2. No overloading of texts, please..

Picture this:

Hey!
?
What’s up?
Busy?
Where you gone?

No one wants to open text messenger to find multiple text messages from the same person. It is suggestive of a clingy character and your date will slowly retreat to ghosting you if you flood their inbox with unread messages. Word of advice: When they don’t text back, wait. Chill. Grab a beer. Slow down, Flo Jo!

Under no circumstances are you supposed to overload them with your concerned messages. You are their date, not their mother. (Or something worse, an insecure partner!)

3. Alcohol + texting=No good

So when to text and when not to? In the initial stages of dating, you might feel like talking to your date all the time. Keep in mind, your date still does not know the neurotic, clingy person you really are yet. So, if you have alcohol in your system, texting long paragraphs with typos is not a sexy thing. Apart from the fact that you might spill some crazy details that might turn them off completely, it also shows how well you can handle alcohol.

Big rule: Do not drunk text.

drunk texting

Likewise, there are no more rules about the man making the first move after a date. 21st century do not dictate women to stay-at-home or only respond when talked to. Text first if you want to talk. But also take care not to initiate the conversation every time. Let your date do it sometimes.

But know when to text a girl. Stick to texting at daytime, rather than after 11 pm, unless you are looking for a booty call.

There is no necessity to text every day. Elite Daily points out, “Talking constantly builds co-dependency” and it’s true. You keep looking for notifications because you are so indulged in gratifying yourself when they text. Not dishing out every aspect of your day means you will have things to talk about on your dates.

4. No calls without prior notice

Just because someone is texting you at the moment, does not mean they are free to take calls. There is also no need to respond to a text by calling them. Introverts will dodge them like deadlines. Even if there is need to clarify something (like explaining which route to take to reach a club), ask them if it’s okay to call them before speed-dialling them.

5. Response to the text

Text response time etiquette is to be acquired over time. The golden rule to this is: If it takes your date one day to respond to your message, do not respond to it immediately. It just shows you have been sitting by the phone for a day for them to reply; and you don’t want to give them that power over you yet.

Likewise, you should not take hours to respond to a text, unless you are swamped throughout the day.

Also, not all texts need a response. Something like: “I am on my way to the theater. Meet you there” does not need a response. An emoji might be okay. Might.

6. Chemistry is everything

There is a thing called texting chemistry, one where you can feel the chemistry between two people while texting. If you are jumping back and forth between “Good night” and” Good night” that can get too boring too fast. If you lack in chemistry, there are ways to build it up. “I normally text a lot of people on Tinder and get a hang on before proceeding to talk to the person I really want,” says Annie.

If the conversation seems to get stagnant, you can share a bit of your personal stuff and see how they react. If they want to click with you, they might share an embarrassing public incident from when they were 10. And that’s a win!

7. No texting serious stuff

Texting is the pre-game. More of a savvy flirting before being on dates with each other. Serious, personal stuff should not be exchanged on texts. Get the information you need on the actual date. So don’t ever text: “Are you monogamous? Did you see any close person die?”

texting serious stuff

Also, put the brakes on the sarcasm or other literary devices you want to incorporate in your two worded-texts. They might not like it and will genuinely think of you as a sarcastic person. Or worse, think you are not funny or smart (sarcasm is the lowest kind of wit). Basically, keep the texts as simple as you can to convey emotions plainly. Measure the water you are dipping your feet in before being the freest self.

8. Is sexting okay?

Before you delve into the sexy world, make sure your date is comfortable with it. If a semi-nude photo is replied with an emoji, dial down on the sexting. Some people take their time to send out nudes, or get comfortable with sexting.

But semi nudes are not the only way to set the ground for sexting. You can also blame autocorrect if you are in a dilemma.

Have a few golden rules of texting to add? What do you feel the topmost rule of texting is? Let us know in the comments below.

 

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If You Drunk Text Your Ex, Do You Still Love Them? An Expert Says Not Quite

You’re jolted awake by the sound of your blaring alarm, reverberating straight from your nightstand and into your subconscious. You roll over, shut off the noise, and feel the familiar pain in your head of a throbbing hangover. As you open your phone to check the photos from last night, you realize with horror that you fired off a message to your ex, of all people. “What does this mean?,” you wonder anxiously. “If I drunk text my ex, do I still love them?”

In the midst of an alcohol-fueled night, almost everyone has sent a text that they regret. Your inhibitions were lowered, and at the time, it seemed like a perfectly rational idea to reach out to a person you used to date. In the morning, this no longer seems like such a clever plan — and discovering the text immediately fills you with panic. You thought you had moved on from your ex, but now you’re concerned that maybe you have lingering feelings for them.

Chelsea Leigh Trescott, breakup coach and podcast host of Thank You Heartbreak, tells Elite Daily exactly what that drunk text might mean. Spoiler alert: it’s probably not as bad as you think. “Drunk texting your ex could mean you’re still in love with them, but it could also mean a myriad of other things that have more to do with fear than love,” she explains. Consider the scenario you were in last night. Were you out with a bunch of happily coupled-up friends, talking about how close they were to getting engaged? “Drunk texting your ex after this evening now may be motivated by the fear of never finding the one, and not actually the belief that your ex really is the one,” Trescott says.

Similarly, if your family is constantly asking why you’re single, you might get stressed about fulfilling their expectations of you. In that case, it’s easy to understand why contacting your ex would feel safe and familiar. “When our inhibitions are lowered due to alcohol, our resulting behavior is more heavily influenced by the immediate context and circumstance we are in than any careful and conscious revelation about our ex,” Trescott says. Your brain is only focused on the here and now, and something triggered a memory of your ex that made you want to reach out to them.

Two beautiful girls drinking and having fun on a girls' night out
Shutterstock

I know what you’re thinking. “But what about the saying, ‘Drunk words are sober thoughts’?” Trescott says there’s no real truth to this idea. “They’re unprocessed thoughts to be challenged,” she says instead. “When we’re communicating drunk, we’re anxiously attempting to satisfy selfish needs or to extinguish sober fears and lingering wounds.” When you’re drunk, you’re more likely to say things that you wouldn’t say sober, but that doesn’t mean those drunk words are true. “While alcohol may lower our inhibitions [and] cause us to be less guarded, that’s not nearly the same thing as becoming more genuine,” Trescott says. “What might come out [instead] are exaggerated confessions fueled by temporary emotions and momentary urges. That drunk text is more an indication of your hopeless romanticism than your deep-seated love.”

For whatever reason, you were reminded of your past relationship, so you decided on a drunken whim to contact your ex. It doesn’t have to mean anything more. Now, if you’re trying to figure out a way out of this situation, Trescott has a plan for you. “The best way to address a drunk text with your ex the next day is with a follow-up text that takes accountability for your altered state,” she suggests. “That text might sound like, ‘I’m sorry if last night’s text seemed to come out of the blue. It’s obvious to me now that I have some unresolved feelings that have less to do with you and more to do with me. If you can, please take those drunken texts with a grain of salt. In the future, I’ll do better when I’m under the influence. ;)” This text keeps it lighthearted and downplays any potential awkwardness.

Sure, this situation might be a little embarrassing, but it need not be the cause for major stress. Mistakes like this happen to everyone, and if you laugh it off and own up to it, you’ll show off your confidence. The next time you’re out drinking with your squad, maybe have them intercept your phone before you send that 2 a.m. message. That’s what good pals are for.

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California Dreamin’ – 1982 to 1984 – Jennifer – Stay Sober

I started flirting with this one girl at a bar in Santa Monica. Eventually I got her number. A week or so goes by and I call her. She asks me to be her date at a super bowl party. I’m not really into sports but it sounded fun to me so I thought, why not?

She said the party was at 5:00pm but she wanted to come over around 3:30pm even though it was a ten minute ride there. I totally figured she wanted to hook up first so I totally prepared myself for that. She shows up, I invite her in and I ask, “how long before we have to leave?” she says it already started so we have to leave now. I thought that was weird but I got in my van and drove there with blue balls the whole way.

It was at a restaurant she worked at and it was an employees and dates party. When we get there it pretty much hasn’t started. Big surprise. We talk for about an hour and get to know each other, but it’s painful because she’s so shy. It was open bar but she doesn’t drink so I resisted the temptation.

Eventually her co-workers come and I meet them. She told me one of them was an ex. It didn’t really bother me. They seemed like good guys. A little on the scummy side though. They all looked like shaggy from Scooby-Doo. They’re all about 22 and have a kid or two and have low-income jobs.

Eventually they convince her to drink. One sip becomes a whole drink and one drink becomes three. (Here we go)

She’s really drunk but still being kinda flirty. I didn’t drink anything and played it on the safe side because I was driving. The plan was to leave halfway through and go to a house party. So I drive her and her coworkers there. What a horrible idea. It’s down in Mar Vista. We get there and it’s one of the shittiest places I’ve ever seen. There was a 75-year-old man reading Hustler instead of watching the super bowl. There was kids running around while people were doing various drugs and talking about selling drugs along with pregnant women drinking.

A little uncomfortable but fuck it. We all play a drinking game and then then Jennifer gets up to go to the bathroom down the hall. About three minutes later, two of the co-workers go down the hall to the porch to smoke. About ten minutes goes by and her ex gets up to go see if the bathroom’s open. He comes back and lays this on me:

“Uhh…. Jen is getting fucked by both those guys right now. Don’t go in the bathroom”.

I was absolutely stunned. I had no idea what to do. I sat there and just watched the super bowl. Minutes later she comes out literally pulling her pants up. She completely ignores me and continues playing. Five minutes go by and she goes to smoke weed with another guy. One guy goes to check and comes back to let me know…

“Yeah, sorry man she’s fucking him now too”.

The guys at the table start saying how nice a guy I am, and that it sucks that I’m her date and she’s fucked three guys. Then they start getting weird. They start whispering about me and pointing at me. I wasn’t entirely sure whether I was going to get my ass kicked. Jen comes back and I tell her we’re leaving in five minutes. One guy at the table stops me and says, “Wait! She’s already fucked Tim, Bill, and Mark, I figured me and Mike could have a go and you can have her the rest of the night!”

What the fuck? I left immediately with her. Unfortunately her car’s at my place. She kept saying the whole car ride that she hates it when this happens, and this is why she doesn’t drink.

I took the long way home because I knew she was drunk. She tried to prove she wasn’t by slapping herself and then saying “I’m not drunk, I see the three yellow lines in the road. I know there’s only two but that’s how I know I’m sober.

Right.

I tell her to stay for an hour knowing I could prolong it so she can sober up. She throws a hissy fit that she has to leave now and her parents are probably looking for her. She says she has to drive home immediately. She apologizes and leaves, saying she’ll see me soon.

Jennifer had sex with three guys on our first date and given the opportunity would have probably made it six.

I never spoke to her again.

 

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California Dreamin’ – 1982 to 1984 – Sarah – That Girl With The Idea

As I awoke with piercing pain in my head became apparent, I was wearing nothing but a sombrero and some short shorts I owned.

Why was this happening to me?

Where was I?

And what had happened last night?

My buddy Frank was lying down right next to me passed out. I shook him to wake him up. He woke up slowly and sluggishly not without putting up a fight.

So I slapped him.

He woke up with a drugged and tired look. He asked why he woke him up. I told him all my concerns and what had happened to me.

He first told me we were at Sarah’s house in Venice for a little kickback with her and her friend. He had been a few places that night but ended up there at the end of the night.

He then asked if I remembered about the dare Sarah gave me.

I said no, so he filled me in.

We had all been daring each other to do stupid stuff and Sarah with her great ideas had decided to make me take 7 shots of putrid tequila consecutively; and then do a strip tease for her.

By this time I was already pretty buzzed and by that seventh shot I was having trouble thinking or staying up straight.

I started to take off my clothes and they cheered me on.

By the time I was only in my briefs I grabbed a nearby random sombrero. I guess my inner Mexican was screaming for the sombrero even after all the alcohol I took.

Then he proceeded to tell me they all took shots and were all around the same state as me. We all started to dance and I guess I tried to climb an imaginary stripper pole I thought was there and I fell and knocked myself out.

They laughed and proceeded to take shots and dance till they all passed out on top of me. We both laughed at the story and then went on to try to find some aspirin, water, and most of all, where everyone else was.

 

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Crazy Dating Stories: Cyra – Revenge Reeks For Mr. Not-So-Hidden Agenda

He drove me to a different bar and insisted I sit down and “drink the taste out of my mouth”.

I met Cyra on wordpress. That’s the platform you’re reading phicklephilly on. She’s also a writer and has her own blog about adolescent behavioral science. Yea. A little heavier subject that my dating blog! We were chatting the other day and she asked if she could give me one of her dating stories for my blog. I’m always looking for good content and love a crazy dating story, so I jumped at the chance.

Take it away, Cyra.

 

I did a summer internship at a museum years ago when I was in college.

After the term ended and I went back to school, I got a call from one of the researchers I worked with over the summer. He wanted to meet and have dinner because he was going to be in the city.

I was really happy about it because I considered this guy a colleague and thought it was really nice of him to want to keep in touch with me. He was about 15 years older than me, but that didn’t matter because this was a dinner between friends. So I thought.

So the day came and he picked me up. He was driving a rented sports car, a little flashy for a guy on a conference trip but ok. He was dressed like a man going for a night at the clubs as well. And I had dressed pretty conservatively.

He suggested we see a movie and I was a little surprised but agreed. He took me to an “alternative” theater downtown and I sat through 90 minutes of borderline softcore. I could barely look at him when we finally left.

He didn’t seem to notice or care that I was embarrassed and uncomfortable. He just said “Let’s get something to eat.” and led me to the car. I thought dinner would be us chatting about our work and what’s new in our lives.

He insisted we have drinks before dinner and kept getting the waiter to top up my wine during the meal. He didn’t want to talk about work, he kept trying to talk about the people we worked with. As in who was doing who. I tried to be polite and listened to him talk. He kept trying to toast things to get me to drink more. It was really awful.

The alcohol and the food didn’t mix well. I finally told him I really wasn’t feeling well and had to leave. As we were leaving the restaurant I felt the need to vomit! I had no control. Thankfully I was able to sort of hide behind the restaurant and spew my guts. I was there for about half an hour.

By the end of it I was feeling better but still really weak and woozy.

I assumed that the “date” was over. Now he’d drive me home and leave, disgusted by what had happened. I didn’t care. I was just looking forward to going home.

Instead he drove me to a different bar and insisted I sit down and “drink the taste out of my mouth”.

I knew it was time to leave. I told him I was going to go into the bar and call a cab if he didn’t drive me home immediately. He asked me to come to his hotel room with him instead.

I started to leave but he finally relented and drove me home. Unfortunately, when we got there he tried again to persuade me to go to his hotel room. I was still feeling ill and he delayed me a little too long. I puked all over the floor of the rental car. It smelled like stale alcohol and sour milk.

He started shouting obscenities at me and I finished heaving on the front step of my building. He tore out of the parking lot and almost hit a parked car.

I was really angry and upset when I got home. So I called the police and reported his car as a drunk driver. He was picked up and charged because he was drunk and his car was full of alcohol-soaked puke.
I heard he lost his job over it too. So it was worth it.

 

Wow. Don’t mess with Cyra!

 

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Johnny R – 2009 to Present – Dive Bar Blues

Johnny came into town recently. I hadn’t heard from him the entire day, and was concerned he would bail. I had just come off an exhausting evening with a lady, and was pretty tired. I had to work at the salon all day and then go meet with him. I wasn’t burned out because I hadn’t drank or smoked anything the night before. She simply wore me out. “Junior achiever, had the old bull by the horns.”(As Steven Tyler would say)

I kind of was hoping he’d bail, but thought it better to text him. It was the end of my shift and he told me he had just arrived at Mcglinchey’s. Being Sunday afternoon, I knew even if we hung out neither of us would last long.

I lock up the salon and headed over. When I get there some seats had opened up at the end of the bar and I beckon him down. I love this place. The staff is surly, the jukebox is good, and the drinks are cheap and you can smoke in this bar.

Perfect.

Johnny’s not happy. So what else is new? He’s always a little disgruntled about something. Currently, he’s pissed that the bartender is hanging all the way at the other end of the bar chatting with her boyfriend.

The bar has somewhat emptied out. There are just small clusters of drinkers at the bar. The jukebox is blasting country music. Which just adds to Johnny’s rage. I don’t care for country music either, but that shit was relentless. He blames the guy that he assumes is the bartender’s boyfriend. She’s not our usual girl, but I can tell she knows us. Johnny is making his faces and doing his hand gestures of disbelief about the poor service.

“Dude, It’s McGlinchey’s!” I tell him. But it does seem way off tonight. It’s not busy enough for us not to be getting the attention that Johnny thinks we so richly deserve. The country hits keep coming and it is getting on my nerves too. I should go over to the jukebox and play a block of Lamb of God, but I don’t know if we’re going to be around long enough to hear any of it.

We have a few rounds and catch up. I tell him what’s going on with work, life and this blog. I even show him in my phone his first chapter. He becomes suddenly giddy and loves that I’ve included him in my story. But, he’s still sore about the poor service and shitty music. “I have an idea. I’m going to hit the head. Be right back.” He says.

I’m still feeling a bit worn out from the previous nights nocturnal exploits. But this always happens. I’ll just go to bed early tonight and be as good as new tomorrow.

Johnny returns from the bathroom with a twinkle in his steel-blue eyes, and a spring in his step.

“Well this is a change in attitude. Did you meet a guy in there?”

“Ha ha. I just did a little bump of coke.”

“Oh nice. Maybe you’ll be in a better fucking mood now.”

“You look a little tired. Want some?”

“I’m good, Johnny, but thanks.”

I like Johnny on either adderall or coke. Stimulants help him focus and actually sober him up a bit. He’s Irish and he loves his Bud bottles. If he has a little something extra, it sustains him at the bar longer. However, things aren’t improving at our beloved McGlinchey’s tonight. I’ve had a couple of $2.60 glasses of wine with ice and he’s throwing back the beer and coke, but the vibe is off due to the music and poor service. Normally this is a bar we’re happy to camp out in for hours on end, but it’s just not happening.

I tell him we should leave and go to one of my favorite spots. He’s fed up as well and agrees. We cash out and hit the trail. The better bar is only about four blocks away. He’s complaining about the cold and doesn’t want to be out in it too long. I assure him he won’t die of frostbite. Plus his nose must already be frozen from the blow.

We get there and take a seat at the bar. Totally different vibe. Warm and happy. The bartender comes over to greet us with an open hand. Roman is one of my favorite bartenders in the city. There are better mixologists with more knowledge in the city, but Roman brings personality and creativity to his bar. He’s part of the experience and makes everyone feel welcome.

Johnny is happy when Roman hands him an ice-cold Bud bottle. It’s a nice upscale place, but there is something for everyone. Roman is letting me test out some new cocktails, and Johnny is feeling much better. After a while I no longer feel as tired as I did earlier. Just good energy flowing from all around.

Johnny’s girlfriend calls him. He thought maybe she’d be picking him up but she says that she’s not. He’s usually in two different places with Rachel. Aggravated or frustrated. They’ve been together for over eight years and that seems to be the way they love. Who am I to judge? Johnny talks about writing a blog again. I tell him, I’m not going to bring it up again. He says he has all of the information in his head. He just needs to let it out. It’s easier than ever to release your thoughts onto the page. The trick is to actually do it. Thinking a lot of great and wild thoughts is cool, but actually bringing them forth is quite another, and no easy task.  I think if Johnny would make the time, and could be on the right cocktail of drugs and alcohol, he would write some fucking great shit. But the only way to do that is to sit down and write.

Write everyday if you can.

After a while, we’re both feeling good, but Johnny needs to get home and feed his cats. He says that maybe the coke will put him in the mood to write. I don’t mind if he never writes a word. I just enjoy having him in my life as a friend. I know you were hoping we’d get into some vice this time, but again, we have behaved ourselves.

Maybe we’re both just getting older.

 

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Sarika – Song of the Black Widow

God, she’s beautiful. I couldn’t find a stock picture on the internet to capture the delightful beauty of this girl. She is so pretty. Indian. Exotic. The type of beauty you’d almost pay for to be seen with at an event. She is probably one of the most beautiful women I know in Philly. But she recently reached out to me to come hang at a happy hour and a brand new place in Rittenhouse, called Scarpetta. Smith and Wolensky’s is gone and now that place is here. It’s in the Rittenhouse Hotel. She also mentioned that she wants me to come up to her apartment and check out her new place at the Dorchester. I am so glad I have reconnected with her. This vacuous she-devil is such a good character for this work. I am a huge fan of lovely Sarika.

I got to Scarpetta around 5:30. They’ve done a nice job with the place. It’s dark and intimate. The bar looks the same but they’ve opened up the place a bit. There’s only the one bar, but they have a lounge in the back and there is a dining room upstairs. I look around for Sarika but I don’t see her. I’m chatting with the manager and then I look out the window and see her walking towards the building.

Sarika looks amazing as always. We grab a couple of drinks at the bar and sit in this cool little area by ourselves near the window. Rittenhouse Square looks beautiful. It’s all decorated for the holidays.There are strings of bulbs in the trees and the whole park twinkle with light. She is having some sort of light pink beverage that I didn’t catch the name of, and I’m having the old-fashioned. Normally, cocktails are around fifteen dollars, but during happy hour they’re half price. So that’s something I can live with for now.

I ask her what she’s been up to and she says she’s been going on a lot of dates. Turns out that weasel she wanted to bring to my eighty dollar a plate New Years party last year has been gone for a while. I remember she was so into that guy. Apparently they were together off and on for two years. She says she wasted her best years on him and now she’s old. She’s 28! Come on Sarika, you are still but a child. She said he was a jerk to her and probably never loved her. I get her laughing, and start thinking that the black widow isn’t so bad after all. She may be smart as a whip, but she’s still a young woman navigating her way through love and life. I even joke that she probably has a blood-red hour-glass tattooed on her belly.

I do love pretty things, and she is no exception.

I tell her she looks great as always. She has been in some sunny destinations lately, so her skin is a darker brown than normal. I like it. It makes her look even more mysterious and exotic. I mention it and she immediately asks if I think it looks ugly. She always says things like that. She is so smart but so immature at the same time. She’s also a bit of a chatterbox. I think most men can’t handle that and don’t like a girl who talks too much. I don’t mind it. I like a girl who has things to say and experiences to share. I love to talk and entertain a woman, so it’s nice when I have a chatty girl so I don’t have to do all of the work. Women like a good listener and I grew up with three sisters. But what I can’t stand is what Carol used to do. Just babbling on nonstop like a tire spinning in the snow. (See: Carol 5/2014 to 8/2016 – There’s No Fun In Dysfunction)

I once read that women speak up to 20,000 words a day, compared to men, who speak only 12,000. So when we get home…We’re done!

It is puzzling how a woman this strikingly beautiful can’t keep a man. But the more you’re around her the more it makes sense. She says she’s been finding men on an app called J Swipe. It’s like Tinder for Jews. I asked her why that app? She said Jewish men normally appreciate women more, have good jobs, and have money. Sounds like she’s hunting for a husband. I think one of the challenges Sarika is facing is that she may be viewed more as a conquest. A creature to be captured and checked off of some list, because she’s so beautifully exotic.

She said she went out with a guy on Monday and even had a date with a pilot after our happy hour. So I assume I won’t be getting a tour of that gorgeous apartment in her building tonight. Sarika has a very busy life. She travels a great deal for her job as a scientist. I know she was formerly an engineer, but now I guess she’s a scientist. She makes great money and spends her other free time hopping on planes and taking little trips. It sounds like a fun life with all of the dating, and jet setting vacations, but it almost seems like she doesn’t want to be alone in her apartment. She’s crazy dating now. It’s good that she’s getting out there and meeting people after two years wasted with weasel man. But again, I can see men wanting her because she’s so beautiful, but she’s kind of annoying to talk to for any length of time. So if they get the opportunity to sleep with her they may not stick around.

Sarika is very intelligent and a nerd. I have taken her to Science after Hours at the Franklin Institute in the past. She loved it like a child. We went to see Jurassic World last summer, and Guardians of the Galaxy is her favorite movie. If my friend Duncan finds that up he’ll probably move up here from North Carolina. You would think guys would find that hot. A pretty girl who likes guy stuff and sci-fi, but it hasn’t worked. Maybe one of these many men that she is meeting for dates, will be rich and just marry her as a trophy wife. But sadly, people are funny about race in this country. They may want to sleep with a hot girl, but they may not want to bring and Indian woman back home to meet the family. I personally I have nothing against it. If you have been reading this blog, you know I love all different kinds of women. As Hank Moody says in the show Californication, “I got all your albums. I love you all and you and you included, Sarika.”

My buddy Church shows up at Scarpetta. I’m happy to see him. Once Sarika  goes on her date at One Tippling Place up the street, he and I can go to Square 1682 and have a drink. Church knows everybody in the restaurant and bar business in this town, so when he orders a drink and the server brings it over, she says, “This one is on Nathan.” He’s the GM there so Church got the hook up. I get another drink, but Sarika is only having the one so she doesn’t show up drunk for her date at 7:00.

While I was waiting at the bar to get my drink, Church chatted with Sarika. I was a little glad that it took the bartender a little time to get to me and make my drink. Normally I don’t like that, but I thought it would give Church a chance to talk to Sarika.

I get back to our little area by the window. We all chat a bit more. Sarika has to go soon, so she heads back to the ladies room. Church tells me she wouldn’t stop talking and it was driving him crazy. He’s been on edge lately, and listening to Sarika go on about something was annoying him. He said something to the effect, “I wanted to put a gun in my mouth.” He said she is so vacuous and self-absorbed and all she talked about was herself.

He once said that about another attractive girl who talked a lot. He was in a car with her and she was talking non stop and he said, “I wanted to leap right out of the car while it was going 70 miles per hour down the highway.”

Sarika returns, and I put her coat on for her. I tell her I will pay for the one drink she had. She tells me she’ll get me next time. I give her a kiss on the cheek good-bye and she’s off. I get the bill for my two old-fashioneds and her dainty drink. It should come to over $22 plus tax. I look at it and it’s only $15. So I got the hookup because I was with Church.

Dude certainly has the power.

I think next we’ll do a happy hour with my friend Carly.  So the night went well and again without incident.

So maybe my pretty little arachnid is finally growing up.

I love Sarika. She is beautiful, and I enjoy her company, if nobody else does, and I can’t wait to see her again.

(Oh… and if you’ve somehow found this and other stories Sarika, I’ll understand if you cut me off. The truth always hurts more than fiction)

 

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