I am not expecting text messages as inspired as Charles Dickens novels, but I do have certain textpectations–some of them greater than others. By the time those Thursday text messages float into your inbox – “you around this weekend” and you respond with something like “I am sir.” And hear those three little words: let’s meet up - you (and they) know its on…
Or is it?
Much to my chagrin these premeditated meet ups often turn into more of a cat and mouse game of texting that turns a night out with pals into a one of two distractions
1) Trying to lure your love interest to the bar you are at with your friends…”hey guys, how long we going to be here?”
2) Debating whether you should troll out of your comfort zone to locations uncharted since your freshman year.
A little while back, I was out with a group of friends and after a series of witty and flirtatious ping-pong texts with a romanTECH interest–who I swear has the opposite summer schedule as me–sent me his sans humor, bottom line at approximately 12:40: “really wanna c u. come here.”
Me, flattered by his bold choice ditched my crowd to meet the potential boo. When I got there however, potential boo he was not. Instead he was hypnotized by some pay-per-view fight and gave me a hey along with a high five. No joke: I almost blacked out. Believe me, I wasn’t expecting rose petals a la Coming to America, but a drink on his tab and glad to see you would have gotten him farther then he probably realized. Feeling weird, I did the natural thing, grabbed myself a drink, slugged it and said my good-byes. He, acting unaffected by my “ciao for now,” quickly shot me a series of text messsages ranging in degrees of desperation from “why did you leave” to “where are you” to the simply stated “?”
Maybe it was harsh, but I was let down by the built-up meet-up and even more deflated by the fact that his actions and texts were sending different messages. In some ways I remain traditional in my thinking: actions speak louder than words (even when they are typed).