Context: Hey compadres! Remember how I said I liked someone?! Let’s call him “excuses”? Well, yeah. So that’s over and done with, and lord knows I love to slander Tinder boys more than Kanye loves Kanye, so let’s get this show on the road. Feel free to share your asshole stories in the comments and we can be angsty and listen to Panic! At The Disco together!
I matched with Excuses on Tinder at the beginning of the summer when I was bored AF living at home counting the seconds until my job started (I might be the first person in the history of humanity to say that. Ah, shit, except the nerdy guy in my accounting class. But fuck that guy, right?). We talked on Tinder for way too long and of course he FINALLY asks me out when I’m in the airport about to go away for two weeks. But we talked on the phone while I was on my trip (God, what is this, the 1890s?) and met up the week I got back.
Things were going great. I liked him, I liked talking to him, I liked that he was tall. Y’all, I told my mom about him. She started planning our wedding right then and there. However, hombre had one fatal flaw: he was the FLAKIEST person on earth. Like, get some Head n’ Shoulders, dude. So I spent many nights expecting to have plans… and then not having plans… and then having wine for dinner. Which is something that I would have probably done anyway but let’s move on.
CLIMAX: he slept over last weekend. Life was grand. And then all of a sudden I’m playing fucking ‘Where’s Waldo’ with my text messages, like “Hey I can’t find you!!” and then I’m like, oh, because you’re not there. Right. It’s like, I’m shouting “Marco!” and there’s no “Polo” to be found. Bet you didn’t think I was going to make your childhood games so depressing, huh!
Legitimately concerned that he had died, I texted him like “HEY BUD YOU ALIVE? GONNA SEND OUT THE AMBER ALERT” and then, upon receiving no response for 24 hours, conducted a last ditch attempt to let him know that he better be dead or else I would personally take care of it. What do you know, he responds within 2 minutes! Guess he must have finally found his phone charger?!?!
“Hey hey, didn’t mean to hit it and quit it, but I have *insert 87 personal problems here* and I also broke all my fingers so I had to teach my dog to text for me so that’s why I’m just now getting back to you!”
Which I read as “Hey beautiful girl who is way out of my league and can do so much better, didn’t mean to hit it and quit it, but wait lol jk I did.”
So, BYE Felicia. Sorry mom, I will still try to marry a guy whose last name starts with “F” so that we can use the monogrammed stationery you ordered. No, please stop crying, Mom, I SWEAR you’ll get grandchildren eventually.
Tbh the worst part of this whole thing is I have to start caring about my Tinder dates again aka stop eating like a slob. Ughhhhh.Tags: Breakup, Date, Excuses, Psychopath, Relationship