A few weeks back I was sitting by myself at the bar of a German restaurant near my apartment eating a burger. I apparently looked behind me, gave the person a look that said, “don’t talk to me” so of course he stepped right up and started talking to me. He asked for my number and I was so impressed with his brazen personality that I gave it to him.
We went out twice. He’s not my type at all (and he admitted that I wasn’t his type either) and I was trying to give him (”it,” really, the time we were spending together) a chance – see if my type could change since I haven’t had much luck with my “type.”
When I got these texts from him yesterday, I was stunned and also pissed. Being this decisive would probably be incredibly attractive if I was into the dude but since I wasn’t, this was just a text from a guy telling me that where to show up and what time and that he was taking me back to his apartment. Translation of this text: I don’t want to keep seeing you unless I know I’m going to get laid.
Well, douchebro, I don’t take orders.
Hey, I tried. The spark just wasn’t there and unfortunately this dude didn’t know that demanding I go to his apartment wasn’t the way to find that out. On/up.