In case you're one of the people worried that single gals are always completely lonely and bored, listen to how my weekend went.
Saturday morning - I was approached by Mr. Crazy-Pants at the gym. He wouldn't take my hints to go away, so I had to leave. I hurried home and immediately hid all of my profiles. On a bright note, I have never moved so quickly during a workout.
Saturday afternoon - After canceling a date on Friday, Bachelor #1 texted to find out how late I would be (I was attending a party out of town). He thought perhaps we could "meet up" after.
Does that sound like an attempt at a booty-call? It did to me - and it annoyed me. A lot.
During the party, I received an email from Chef. Just checking in (after, like, three months). Hopes I will hang out with him sometime.
On the way home from the party, I received an email on Match from a guy I've been trying to connect with for two months. He favorited me, I winked at him, he winked back, I emailed him - and he never responded, until now. Finally some good news! We exchanged phone numbers, but that was all.
I got home from the party around midnight. At 12:30 am, I got a text from a guy who I had never met in person, and only emailed briefly on Plenty of Fish. He'd asked me out for Saturday, so he knew I had plans. Guess he assumed I'd be awake. He suggested we meet out. I declined.
I'm not positive he was attempting a booty call. However, guys, it's worth noting that when you suggest getting together after a certain hour (I'd say about 10 pm) it's always - always - suspect.
While I was lamenting my day by venting to Baking Suit, I got another text. At 1:15 am. From a guy I've been talking with, but haven't met. His text consisted of, "Wyd?" I didn't answer.
Talk about suspect. This totally felt like another attempted booty-call. At this point, I just wanted to cry.
On Sunday, I'd agreed to meet Mr. 12:30am for coffee, though I had no hope we would have a connection. I was right. I was in the coffee shop for less than an hour. While I was in there, I got a text from Mr. Ding-a-Ling, and an email from another guy on Plenty of Fish.
I wished both of them a Happy Sunday. Then I went home and hid under the covers until Monday night.
Sometimes, a little boring is exactly what a single gal needs.