And, this is why I’m not dating

Around mid-October, when I was on Match and OKCupid, I met this guy, aka The Professor and formerly the guy that was too good to be true.  Long story short, he’s amazing on paper, we went out, things went OK despite him being one of those really awkward but amazingly brilliant guys, he asked me out to dinner, then disappeared.  No biggie, happens all the time, and I’d pretty much forgotten about him.

Last night around 9:30 I receive a text from a number I did not recognize: Hey JM I am really sorry for beng out of touch.  I was in London when my phone died.  But I’m back in town and want to take you to dinner. : )

Me: I’m sorry, but I’m not sure who this is?

Him: It’s The Professor, we had a first date in October.

Me: Oh right, with the Boston area code.

Me: It’s been a few years since I’ve been to London, but I’m pretty sure they have email over there. : ) <== (smiley face so I don’t come across too bitchy)

Him: Right . . . you have the cutest smile and nose.  Sorry for not emailing, but you were probably on 1,000s of dates and I couldn’t be in the same country. : (

Me. Dinner sounds nice.

Him: So when?

This is where I get irritable.  It’s late, I’m trying to sleep.  Just fucking pick a date and time, already!

Me: I’m kinda flexble since I am off through the new year.

Him: Honestly, I wanted to kiss you that night when we met (rare for me) so it’s in your hands.

I’m realizing now that he’s probably drunk, so I’m going to sleep and will see how things go in the morning. 

Him: I really haven’t been home in awhile.  Going to unpack and shower.  You’re welcome to come over, I’m right on Main Street.

Whaaaaaat.  The.  FUCK?

Me: You’re joking, right?

Him: No, you’re a brutally honest person. I say what I feel, I mean that as a compliment. Honest is honest.

At this point I’m convinced that one of the following is going on: A. He hasn’t been laid in months and he’s texting every single girl in his phone out of pure desperation, B. He’s drunk., or C. He hasn’t really been in London, he’s been in the mental ward.  I guess there is always D. All of the above.

Me: I don’t know who you pegged me for, but I think you got the wrong impression.  We met months ago, I haven’t heard a word from you, and now you text me for a booty call?  Really?

Him: No booty call, just got back and was trying to catch up.  I apologize, my job takes me abroad a lot.  Sorry for being honest.

I don’t text him back.

More than 30 minutes later – 11:30 PM . . .

Him: Amazing what a long shower after a 13 hour flight feels like.  Going to find a movie to watch.  Would still like to take you to dinner.

Wow, just . . . wow.


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