Context: I matched with Jack #3 on Hinge and we bonded over him working for my previous company (quite an experience, as you may remember). We agreed to meet for beers at Rebellion on a Friday evening.
Remember how I said everyone named Jack is the worst? Jack #3 helped write that rule. Now, let’s recall the other evidence in this series:
– Jack #1 who ghosted on KA then proceeded to try to sleep with her and FaceTimed her repeatedly to tell her he loved her;
– Jack #2 who needs to check his privilege lest he continue to believe that unethically treated minorities “just like playing the victim.” I can’t believe I just had to type that again. Somebody get me a vodka.
I had actually had finished aforementioned conversation with Jack #2 just an hour before my date with Jack #3 was scheduled to begin. In the interim I sprawled on my bed, internally struggling.
All men were the worst… but I had already put on clothes and makeup for the date.
He looked like a fuckboy… but it was a Friday afternoon and I had nothing better to do.
He would probably be the worst! But then again so am I and at least he’s the kind of worst that buys me drinks.
I caved and sipped my 2nd glass of wine for the day while I waited for him to text me that he was there, which would be my cue to leave my house.
Okay, y’all, Jack #3 was HOT. The prettiest blue eyes, well dressed, TALL – I was allllll about this. He took my drink order and I grabbed us two seats by the window. This being a Friday afternoon, Rebellion was PACKED, so when he took his seat we were arranged in such a way that my knees were pressed into his inner thigh. Holy electricity, Batman! You literally could have fried an egg with the heat running between our limbs during the 3 hours we were at Rebellion.* As he closed out his tab, I took my chance.
J- Do you have any plans tonight?
J3 – Not really! You?
J – Wanna come pregame at my friend’s place?
J3 – Yeah! Should we pick up some liquor?
I was getting LAIDDDDD TONIGHT, ladies and gents.
*Not sure this is the expression. It’s fine I’m drunk.
We tried to stop by TJs for some wine, completely unaware of the fact that it was 10:30 PM. Luckily we found an open liquor store nearby, he bought a bottle of red wine, and we moseyed over to my friend’s place. And it was grand! We danced, we sang, we Despacito’d. We started making out, we headed back to my place, and THEN. Then, I realized something heartbreaking.
He had a vvvvvvv small dick.
Like, there is “this isn’t that pleasant but whatever” small and then there is “I AM SCARED THAT THIS LOOSE CONDOM IS GOING TO FALL OFF” small and this was the latter. So the next day after some pillow talk and sending him off to his Uber, I was like WHAT DO I DO IF I LIKE SOMEONE BUT THEY WILL NEVER PLEASE ME SEXUALLY but then I remembered I don’t actually have any feelings and this dilemma became easier.
We planned a second date for that Wednesday, and by “planned” I mean “he showed up at the Dupont metro and we grabbed a bottle of wine and drank it at Meridian Hill Park because it seemed like a good option”. And it was! It was fun! And, from our interactions, I could tell that he would rather peel his skin off with a dull knife than talk about his emotions. We were so compatible!
After cuddling in my bed watching 2 episodes of It’s Always Sunny and him trying to hook up and me being like “no I’d rather not be sexually disappointed tonight”, he headed home. And the texts didn’t cease, but they slowed. A lot. And then ceased. So essentially he was like me, but he was being me to me, which isn’t cool. Whatever.
I was really drunk on 4th of July weekend and decided that there was NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT to confront a love lost, so I texted him.
J – Hey did you die
J3 – Ahh, no, sorry I’ve been really busy lately!
J – Too busy to respond to texts though *suspicious chin scratch emoji*
J3 – Ok, honestly, I recently got out of a long term relationship and really enjoy spending time with you, but knew that if we kept hanging out it would turn into something and I’m looking to just date around for a while. You’re really great but I just can’t do this right now.*
J – Okay I understand that, but there are better ways to express that than by ghosting on me. We’re adults.
J3 – You’re right, I’m sorry.
J – Thank you for your apology.
*FUCKBOY! FUCKBOY! ALERT THE NATIONAL GUARD!!
Ok. Buddy. This is a real reason, I suppose. I give you that. But after two dates???? This is almost as bad as the guy who told Lil’ S that he couldn’t date her after one date because she didn’t want children in the next few years. WHAT?! I have racked my brain time and time again over potential reasons for these transgressions, until realizing that subjecting people to the worst aspects of your personality is what most straight guys think dating is.
Whatever, I’m getting cheese fries.
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