Having progressed from Tinder virgin to competent(-ish) user with well over 300 matches in such a short time frame, I was caught unawares on a night out with a girlfriend; I had completely forgot that one can meet boys the old fashioned way – in real life.
My friend Ella* was visiting from out of town and we decided to go out one Saturday night on the Easter long weekend. We spent quite a bit of time getting ready, just for the fun of it, only to realise that Ella didn’t have her ID with her, so we’d have to settle for a bar rather than a club. In all honesty, this suited me just fine as I was on call and couldn’t really have anything to drink and was the designated driver. So we hit up one of my locals and settled into one of the tables outside. She had told me that she was pretty keen to meet some boys and I was most certainly on the prowl. I scoped out the area that we were sitting in and spied a table of cute boys sitting behind Ella, directly in my line of vision. I told her to check them out and that we should go and sit with them or at least talk to them.
Unfortunately, Ella wasn’t feeling very confident that night (I thought she looked gorgeous and had nothing to worry about mind you), so she shut down my suggestion pretty quickly. I figured that when she went to get a drink or to the bathroom, I’d swoop in then. She saw right through me though and made me swear not to talk to them whilst she was gone. Eventually, I got boxed into where I was sitting and had to crawl under the table to go to the bar and when I returned, I joined Ella on her side of the table. Then, one of the boys at the table behind us stretched and accidentally bumped me – contact made! So we got to talking to him for a bit, meanwhile, another boy and his mate asked if they could sit opposite us (where I was previously sitting) and we obliged. The original boys mustn’t have been very interested as the conversation petered and Ella and I turned to our new tablemates.
Ella and I were in fine form chatting up these two boys, however, it was only really one of them that was talking to us and he kept trying to include his mate, but he just didn’t really have much to say! So the four of us sat and the three of us talked for a few hours and I was picking up vibes between Ella and Jordan* so I tried my utmost to wing woman the shit out of her. It started to get late and the bar was winding down, I was exhausted from the call in I’d had early that morning and I made eyes at Ella about us going. We excused ourselves to go home and detoured via the bathroom where I promptly told her off for not asking for Jordan’s phone number. She looked perplexed and explained to me that he was into me, not her. After arguing back and forth for a bit, she presented much better arguments and examples than I could and I conceded; she was right, it was I that should have got his number. So, she sent me back upstairs, tail between my legs to fetch it. I was beside myself with nerves and had no idea how to handle the situation – I’d never asked a boy for their number before! What if she was wrong and he did like her? I took out my phone and opened it up to the keypad, marched over to the table and presented it to him.
The look on his face was a combination of surprise, confusion (why is this girl holding a phone in my face?) and then, finally, delight. He practically leapt across the table and told me he was so glad I came back. He said I was really beautiful and that he hated himself for not saying anything before. I explained the little pow-wow Ella and I had had in the bathroom and we shared a laugh. He then repeatedly asked me if I was even going to remember him the next day, I reassured him over and over again that I would, as I was sober and it was he that was quite drunk. Then he actually climbed onto the table to kiss me goodbye after saving his number in my phone, under his full name mind you.
Such a sweet story, right? I met a boy, in his natural habitat and there was an organic, carnal connection – the way it’s supposed to be! Well, that’s not quite how it continued from there. The next day I sent him a message, I thought I’d do him a solid as I was the sober one and maybe he wouldn’t remember my name or even meeting me at all! His response was sweet, he said, “I wasn’t worried you’d forget [me], I was worried that I wouldn’t see you again. When you walked back in it was like the Easter Bunny came early.” Cute, right? I waited a while to reply and asked him when he was going to see me again. No response. I waited two days and I told my bestie that I wasn’t a scaredy cat and would double text him if I didn’t hear back soon – I mean, he was really keen on me! So, I sent him, “…Wednesday and Sunday are my days off this week,” as a final attempt to elicit a response. Nada, zip, zilch, nil, naught, zero. How has he managed to go from one hundred to nothing in three days? What is the meaning of this game?
A few more days passed and I caught up with one of my male friends and asked for his perspective on the situation. He agreed that it was really odd and suggested one final move to remove any doubt or concern that maybe he had phone issues or any other of a plethora of excuses that would justify this sudden change in behaviour; he said since he saved his full name in my phone, I could add him on Facebook and see if I get a response that way. I laboured over whether I wanted to go almost full stalker on him and take that route or not. The unwavering optimist in me does nothing but believe that all people are good and that the only logical explanation was that something had happened to his phone and he must have lost my contact details. I slept on it and then finally bit the bullet and sent him a friend request. After about a week of no response, I withdrew my request and moved on, my ego slightly bruised from this strange encounter, but I emerged warier of boys and their inexplicable games; another lesson learned the hard way – boys are weird.