Hmmph!

So it seems that neither Dude X nor Mongo will work out. Dude X, as I expected, chickened out. He sent an e-mail on Tuesday night, saying that cheating on his wife didn't fit in with his version of himself. That's fine, really, but it doesn't explain why he answered the ad in the first place. This is part of why I'd prefer a guy who's strayed in his marriage before.

I am less upset about Dude X than I am about Mongo, who I haven't heard from now in a week. He promised me in our last conversation that he was still "as interested as ever, so don't give yourself a complex, cutie!" I responded to that e-mail last Thursday, and then I sent a "Hey, hope you had a great holiday weekend, thinking of you" e-mail on Tuesday. I won't call or text or e-mail again, unless I hear from him.

This is a lesson I've learned over the time that I've been, well, dating. When you really like someone, it doesn't make them like you more to bug them incessantly, it's more likely to make them never want to talk to you again. I know this, intellectually. It doesn't keep me from feeling that awful urge to send progressively more strident or cute or sexy e-mails or texts. I may have already gone one over the limit with the second e-mail to Mongo. I won't compound it by bugging him more.

I suppose that this is the difference between being cool and psychotic -- the cool girl THINKS about constantly communicating with someone she's interested in, while the psychotic girl can't take the hint. Of course, the totally copacetic ladies don't think about it OR do it and there must be some women out there who never are more interested in their suitors than the suitors are interested in them so this doesn't come up. I can at least control the impulse enough not to push the button.

Next up (possibly later today), a story from last year. There is sex and awkwardness, my specialty!