:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::
Thoughts, observations, and introspections from an
:: Wednesday, February 18, 2009 ::
Labels: cell phones, dating, girls, tennis Labels: cell phones, dating, NaBloPoMo, rants
:: Wednesday, November 07, 2007 ::
Seemed harmless enough other than the fact that it seemed somewhat stalker-ish. But given my luck up to that point, what's the worst that could happen; she ignores my message? Never show up at the tennis clinics again? Whatever, I've heard worse ideas.
I knew her first name, and during our conversation she told me what she did, where she lived, and what college she went to. Using those filters, I found her profile in about five minutes and... wow is that her? That is her college and I can open up her profile and, holy crap that is her. WOW she's hot. I mean, she looked good sans makeup and all (not just because her little tennis skirt showed off her legs) but her default photo showed her decked out in a black dress at some restaurant or club and let me tell ya, she cleans up nice. I have to admit, I was a little intimidated.
It took me about forty minutes to compose a message. Yeah really. It couldn't come off too weird or dorky, and I made sure there weren't any typos (did I mention she's a teacher?). It's one thing to go over something with a fine-tooth comb; I strained this thing through a sieve. Finally convinced that I wouldn't seem like a total idiot, I clicked "send."
Saturday came and went with no reply, no calls, nothing. I did check her profile once more to see if there were any changes in her status (which might actually be a little stalker-ish) but again, nothing. I thought that maybe she doesn't check it that often because unlike other Facebook dwellers, she enjoys interacting with three-dimensional human beings. Any type of reasoning that makes me feel less like a loser, I'll go with. Whatever, I didn't hear from her.
Or so I thought.
Another Wednesday night, another night of tennis. I arrive, pay for the clinic, walk to the courts and... oh it's her. Umm, shit.
"Hey how are you?" "I'm good, how are you?" (There's that smile again.)
"Not too bad." "I got your message on Facebook."
Oh. Umm, shit. My initial reaction was apprehension. Crap. I knew it. She thinks I'm an idiot. But, wait a minute and focus for a minute. She's here, she said 'hi' to me, she's smiling, and oh by the way, she's HERE. And another thing, dumbass? SHE'S SMILING.
"You did." 'Yeah, I tried calling you on Saturday."
o_Ó
"You did?"
She did? I don't remember getting a call at any time on Saturday... oh wait. There was that one call early afternoon from an area code that I didn't recognize. I get these occasionally and it's always some telemarketing call so I ignored it. That was her? She's been living in Miami longer than I have; I thought she'd have a local number. Why the hell didn't she leave a message?!
Never mind that. I have a shot to salvage this thing.
We keep making small talk throughout the night and I really can't help but notice that being the only girl, she's not only doing a pretty good job keeping up with the guys (again, not a metaphor for "she has a nice ass" although, yeah it's not bad) she's is a bit better than a couple of them. Once we're done, I go up to her and ask her for her number (again) and punch it into my phone. (After last week, I don't care if I'm just taking the trash out, I'm never leaving home without that thing again, ever.)
We have tentative plans for Sunday afternoon. Let's just see now if I figure out a way to screw that up.
:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:32 PM [+] ::
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It was fun and relaxing but I also had to get my mind off the fact that I ran into one of the girls I blogged about a while ago. It wasn't quite cordial, either. After the initial pleasantries, she asked why I lost touch.
What are you talking about? I tried calling you. Why didn't return my call?
I texted you.
And I tried to call you afterwards but you weren't picking up.
Well... I really like texting.
You'd really rather type out messages on a keypad instead of just pressing that green button?
Well, it's easy because I have a Blackberry.
I don't remember much after that since I think my head exploded. We said our obligatory "good to see you again, blah blah blah" but I was left thinking (which is never a good thing) about this. I'm not one these people that’s perpetually attached to their cell phones. I work with people who check their cells every hour during a shift. I have to deal social retards every time I work because they're too busy yapping on their phones to order, or even practice some simple courtesy. When I had a car, I'd always have incidents with some dumbfuck man or woman who's too busy talking to see what's going on around them. If I call someone and leave a message, I sometimes get a text back. And there have been times when I email people where they reply via text.
What the fuck?
I dislike cell phones and I fucking HATE texting just as much, if not more. I may have a cell but I use it like a landline; I don't like using it when I'm not at home. I was one of the last one of my friends to get a cell phone and I've yet to really embrace it so I admit that I may be a little behind the times but is texting now really an acceptable form of regular communication? It's not enough that I have to consider whether my clothes are ok, if my breath stinks, whether my humor is too arcane, or what I say when I call, but now I have to think about how and when to text? Really?
It's probably because I'm a guy but I don't like using the phone unless it's a with a friend in a different city that I haven't seen in a while. And I'll even admit that there have been a few times where text messaging has been useful. but geezus. Is this what we've become? A bunch of thumb-talking savants? Or am I the one that's out of line?
Back to the point of this post; as I was thinking about this, it seems that ever since I moved to Miami, just about every minute I spent with any woman came in a distant second to some alone time playing my guitar. Is that sad or what? (Don't answer that.)
:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:48 AM [+] ::
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