Don’t send a picture of your ass and boobs until you’ve met the guy and he deserves that lusciousness. Damn it to hell.Friday 6:30 p.m.
So I deleted Tinder and closed my account in a fit of annoyance. I think turning 55 has aged me out of some people’s searches. I don’t look 55 and for sure don’t act it. I could lie about my age like 85% of the men do. (I’m peering at the wrinkles on their face and it blatantly says 42, no fuckin’ way dude. You are lying if you’re dying.) So I deleted Tinder but I added Hinge. Yesterday.
I start talking to Mike H. and he seemed okay. Then one thing lead to another and I’m putting on cute red panties to send him a pic, then my boobs, then my cute ass. (I didn’t know it was cute you guys. I was pleased with it when I saw the pic.) We set a date for tonight. Fucking asshole.
We were going to meet for drinks after his cable guy left at 6-ish. Uh huh.
I texted him at 3 today, “Hey I’m trying to decide between jeans and a dress,” kinda wondering if he was dressing up.
At 4:15 I queried if the date was still on as it had sounded like 6:30 was the probable time.
“Sorry! I will be working until after 5:30!”
Working? I thought he was waiting for the cable guy? I smelled a fish but kept getting ready. I shaved my legs and put on the good moisturizer.
At 6:30 I said “Dude are we on or not? I’m going to go to a concert if not.”
At 6:45 he texted “Just getting home. Have fun!”
What the literal fuck?
He’s not a surgeon folks. I know surgeons can’t text at work. But pretty much the rest of us can shoot off a quick 10-second text. Of course we can.
So he just didn’t.
And then that whole cable thing.
I was madddddddddd. Told him he was rude and what the hell and please delete my pix.
Then I asked if he’d planned on coming at all.
He said, “I thought you were going to a concert.”
I texted, “Noooooo I was going out with you. I appreciate honesty even if you were on another date or happy hour or whatever. I don’t care as long as I know what’s up.”
And he has pix of my face and boobs and ass, not all in the same picture. I’m not that dumb. But still.
I was looking forward to talking with him and having sex. I can’t believe he didn’t follow through just for the sex?
So I decided I’d go to a concert by myself and be brave. Well first I was gonna text Liberal Marine and I stopped myself. That’s not cool. For him or for me.
Went to the concert and maybe made a friend but it was a dumb concert so I left.
The other rejection I’m experiencing is that Prince Albert has dropped me like a hot potato. He supposedly had to help his brother with a busted pipe last Friday and canceled our date. But he sent me a pic of him Saturday night and we texted Sunday. He said he hoped we’d hang out soon. I sent him my open dates for this week, Tuesday and Friday. Nothing. At. All.
No text since Sunday. What the literal fuck with these guys? We had a great date! Just tell me. Don’t leave me hanging.
I’m going to text him right now and ask? Fuck it. I did it.
Probably wrong. I don’t care.
I asked if he was ghosting me.
He’ll say no. Of course. Duh. Why wouldn’t he?
Well. He’s said nothing so far. So…
On that note, men can suck a big one on this day.
Photo by Nicolas Postiglioni on Pexels.com