I met a guy last week. He was beautiful—Puerto Rican and Columbian, gorgeous lips, perfect teeth–let’s just say my confidence nearly tripled when he approached me for my number, which I more than gladly gave up.
First convo was spent with him basically trying to make me laugh which I already found slightly annoying. A few jokes sprinkled throughout the convo is good, but when every statement is a punchline it can be a bit much. Still, I realize this is a popular male strategy so I proceeded with the normal questions you ask a man who is trying to get to know you—how old are you, what do you do, do you have kids, do you live alone, oh, and are you married (if you don’t ask, they won’t tell.)
His answers to every question were pretty much unfavorable (except for the married one), but he was fine enough to look past a few flaws for a casual liaison. Plus, he’s a personal trainer and yea, I could use those services ASAP. By day 3 I think I’d pretty much decided that his looks and what his training skills could do for my extra flesh no longer mattered. If there’s one thing I can’t stand from a man that I’ve just met, it’s doing way too much.
First issue—constant compliments. Asking me for my number let me know you thought I was at least decent, texting me “I’m so fine” after we first meet lets me know you still think I’m attractive after our brief interaction, but telling me every day that you were mesmerized by my caramel complexion and my brown eyes and my long black hair and my nose, yes, nose, is doing too much. I see myself every day. I don’t need to be reminded of my features or how “amazing/captivating/extraordinary” they are every.single.time.we.talk. It’s uncomfortable and awkward. Like jokes, compliments should be dished out sparingly.
Which brings me to the issue of calling (and recap texts). There definitely was no opportunity to have a “he’s just not that into you if he’s not calling moment” with this one. Every morning I woke up to a text along the lines of “Good morning, I hope I get to hear your angelic voice tonight. Last night talking to you was sugar to my soul.” What? The level of overthetopness is just too much for me to handle. Thinking he was operating like most men who think they have to butter you up endlessly when you first meet, I texted him, “You do know that you don’t have to stroke my ego just to talk to me, right?” He replies, “Everything I say is from the heart. Muaaa.” (Gag me)
If these were isolated incidents, I may be able to write them off as “sweet” but when you call throughout the day and say you just had to hear my voice, I start to get worried. However not as worried as I was when he called seven times on Friday simply because I didn’t answer a random let me spill my artificial guts out text. Can I be busy?! (Truthfully I was just sitting listening to my ringtone and wondering how many times he was going to call, but he didn’t know that!)
He also didn’t know that after telling him I was out Saturday night, I put his number on my auto-reject-straight-to voicemail-list because one text saying “hey” is OK, although he hadn’t known me long enough to text me at 2:26a. But at 2:28a asking, “am I ok?!” followed by “JUST LET ME KNOW YOU ARE OK,” in all caps one minute later is just too much! Although not as much as the 12 missed calls I received between 3:46a and 515a. Please tell me one, why you think you can call me at those times; two, why you think you can call me with that frequency; and three, why you’re acting like my man (or is that just a pyscho).
The thought is nice but he doesn’t know me well enough to be that worried that I’m chopped up in a garbage bag somewhere in Bed-sty after leaving the club. Plus I‘m pretty sure the harassment had less to do with my safety than it did him thinking I was actually going to text him, as he requested, when I left the club so he could “just give me a hug” So glad I had the forethought to add him to that reject list (and that Samsung had the forethought to create it) I knew he’d be calling because he wanted to see me Sunday. No thanks.
And please stop acting like not seeing me is the equivalent of being tortured in a Japanese internment camp. “If I see you tonight I’m going to do cartwheels” excuse me? “I just really wanna see you. I’ll pay to see you, that’s how bad I wanna see you.” The school loan slave woman in me was dying to ask how much, but that whole statement was just wrong. Pay me? What do I look like? And if you want to see me how about you ask me on a date?! And preferably one that doesn’t involve watching Monday night football (which by the way we never made it to, funny how a man finds the perfect time to disappear isn’t it?).
A couple friends seem to think I’m just being mean and that he’s sweet and all that good stuff, but I disagree. The level of attentiveness screams Lifetime Original Movie, better yet it screams disengenuine. Why are you suffocating me, a complete stranger? That’s the real reason I’m so annoyed. There’s no reason (or way) that I could seriously affect his mood/day as much as he claimed talking to me did, it was non-specific BS, meaning he must act that way with every woman he meets because he didn’t know me well enough to seriously feel the way he said (unless he’s crazy) and I don’t even engage the conversation enough for him to think I have this amazing personality.
Bottom line, stop behaving the way you think women want you to or the way you should to keep me from talking to the next man I meet grabbing Chinese on my way home from work. If his goal was really to get to know me then he would’ve asked more than how old am I, what do I do for a living, and do I live alone? I need some substance here because so far this entire relationship is running on his photographic memory of me on a Tuesday night.
This is exactly why I can’t date for martinis-some men just do too much. Plus, I guarantee all this stalker-like behavior will fall off once he thinks he’s got me. I can’t deal with the antics. Here’s hoping Samsung comes up with a way to block texts soon.