Tag Archives: making coversations

Who You Gonna Call? Obviously Not Me, Because You Ghosted Out

When I heard about men just “ghosting out” on my friends, I figured, ignorantly, something must have happened that caused it, or that it they weren’t giving me the full story. How does a guy just disappear, never to be heard from again? Unlike that time I had a legitimate crush on Casper the Friendly Ghost, aka DEVON SAWA, I don’t fancy men that peace out like they’ve crossed over to the afterlife. That’s pish-posh. It’s like hearing stories of women finding their husbands and boyfriends on Tinder. And by “finding” them, I don’t mean they found “the one.” I mean they were already “the one,” and they were on Tinder looking for a side chick.

(That’s actually happened to people I know. DAMMIT.)

So I should have known better than to think it could happen to everyone else but me, but alas, there I was, thinking it couldn’t possibly. And then it did.

Twice in a row, actually. Little back story on both:

Guy 1: We’ll call him… MM. He was on a popular reality show, and I was setup through a friend. He seemed normal/nice enough, given being on television. (I’ve had really odd/obnoxious situations with people on TV.) He was professionally successful, and my friend told me he was a nice, standup guy. And frankly, it was the first time I was excited to go on a date! I didn’t feel dread; I didn’t feel like it was a chore. I was happy to go out and learn more about him.

I was impressed by the fact that he reached out to me almost immediately after my friend gave him my number, and I was really thrilled that he called me on the phone to organize the date. Talking on the phone these days is so rare. People are scared to pick up the phone — I used to hate talking on the phone, but now it’s like I crave it. It’s a more sincere connection than just sitting and texting with someone. You have to actually pay attention when you talk to someone on the phone.

For the date, he picked me up, took me out for drinks… and that’s when things got a little odd.

About halfway through the date, I excused myself to text my girlfriends in the bathroom: “This isn’t going well. He isn’t into me.” He didn’t do anything that would make me think he didn’t like me, unless you count the fact that he asked me one question about myself (maybe) in a matter of two hours. Most of the time was spent talking about his professional life, his personal life, his family, his time on reality TV,  and somewhat talking down to me about sports. (He wouldn’t have known that I know a lot about the subject — he never asked.)

It’s pretty typical of men in LA to sit and gloat about themselves, and I feel sad that it’s a rare trait to find someone who seems interested in what I have to say. Some of you might be thinking, “but your job is to ask people questions for a living. Maybe you weren’t giving him a chance?” I have to say that, if anything, this makes me more aware of other people and how they act, react and their body language — none of which seemed to express interest in me.

Anyway, I was relieved when we got the check and decided to go. I was bummed that he wasn’t interested, but I tried to shake it off. When we got back to my apartment, we sat in his car for a few minutes listening to Big Sean and Drake and laughing (I equate this to men reciting poetry for women back in the 1600s), then he got out, opened my door and walked me up to the porch area, WHICH I LOVE! Because that’s chivalry, people. Anyway, no smooching happened (like you care? oy)  but he did ask me out for the next night, much to my surprise. And I thought, “see, Kirbie! You have to stop writing people off. Maybe you’re meant to go out with him and a real connection will happen!” (I clearly have been watching too much of The Bachelorette.)

And then I never heard from him again.

Ever. again. Bye, Felicia status.

Guy 2: I have known this guy for a few years, because he was my former neighbor. He was married. He is not married anymore.

While that is all true, the real reason I connected with him was because OF TINDER! Sue me. He was cute. I wanted to go on dates. You know, put myself out there, embrace the law of attraction, all that jazz.

He was the first person that came up in my matches. So I asked my roommate if I should “heart” him or not, and with her encouragement, went for it. What did I have to lose? If it wasn’t a match, he’d never know. And I felt comfortable, given I knew him (albeit not very well).

The short of it is that we went on two dates, which I thought went well. No spark immediately, but I wasn’t trying to rush anything. After our second date, I told him to call me the next day, and he laughed and joked it was “too soon.” Surely no dude would openly say that out loud and NOT BE KIDDING, right?

Well, joke it was not — because he kissed me goodbye that Saturday night, and I never heard from him again.

The end!

The point I initially was going to make was: don’t be a coward! Politely tell a woman you’re not into her if you aren’t. But I guess that’s weird, and quite assuming on your part to think she would even care. Given my interest level in both guys, I was confused, but I wasn’t devastated to not hear from them again. But part of me is curious as to why I never heard from MM, especially since he made the effort to invite me out for the next day, and nothing terrible or deal-breaking happened on the Neighbor Boy dates.

Granted, I could have said something that they didn’t like, or they could have been turned off by my weave…? (RIP Ashley!) (Actually, they definitely had no idea about Ashley because she was put in flawlessly. She was undetectable.)

So what is my point? I don’t know. Maybe it’s to ask what you think is appropriate in this situation: do you ignore and avoid? Or are you upfront about everything so there’s no questions? Is blowing people off soooooo 2000 and late? I want to know what it all means!

When you ghost out on a woman, what’s your reasoning?

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“A conversation is a dialogue, not a monologue.” — Truman Capote

I thought I was turning out to be the only person who thought men were complete and utter asshats UNTIL I WENT TO VEGAS.
(If you don’t want to read about the drunk wisdom I received from a British lad, scroll down — there are some real special OKCupid messages awaiting you. They’ll be the last of the bunch considering I deleted my account last week.)

——————————-

While at TAO, a British lad by the name of Stephen approached myself and my two girlfriends and asked us to come to his table. If you’re a woman, you know the number one mission you should have in Vegas is to find hot men with a table of free alcohol to consume. I was patting myself on the back for this mission: accomplished when I started talking to Stephen a bit more and realized this was a divine intervention… or Mentervention, rather.

Were Stephen and I meant to be? DEFINITELY not. He had about six too many buttons unbuttoned on his shirt, I can guarantee you he was just trying to sleep with me (or one of my girlfriends — who knew at that point) and pretty much defined the term “British Playboy.” His friends were pulling the ultimate wingman move by telling all of us he was a royal and went to school with Pippa Middleton and Princess Beatrice. Shamefully, I was pretty close to believing them. Does the normal guy care or even know Princess Beatrice exists? Alas I knew it was all lies — lest any man doubt my knowledge of the royals — but a nice touch nonetheless. Anyway, talking to Stephen, he made a few comments that I found to be unbelievably brilliant. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was his rather charming accent… but it all made so much sense. Don’t even ask me how this got brought up because I don’t remember:

(Please read in a British accent) “Men in America are quite idiotic. I’m serious. They run around and try to get women yet they only ask questions like, ‘What brings you here? Have you been here before?’ Just give it up already man! It’s even worse when they try to talk to other men. (Goes into his American accent) ‘Yo dude! What’s up bro? Yeah man, keep it real.’ What the bloody hell is that? I will tell you why men in America are a turnoff to women: because they don’t know how to hold a decent conversation.”

Now Stephen makes a valid point. I’m not saying this to make myself sound like some woman who is just overloaded with men approaching her — I’m definitely not — but this is a dating blog after all, so sue me. Anyway, just today some rando at Whole Foods came up and said, “You know what’s good?” Me, being oblivious, looked around, and responded, “What?” I thought he was going to tell me what was good. Then he’s like, “No, is there something you like here?” And at this point I’m privy to the fact that he’s just trying to talk to me, but I’m also really annoyed because I’ve been waiting 10 minutes to get a half a pound of sliced turkey. So I kind of just smile and say, “Nope, looks like all my favorites aren’t available today…” and he stands there and stares at me. Like a creeper. So I start to move when he says, “I don’t really care if you like anything, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

Yeah, I couldn’t tell man. Here’s the thing: timing is everything. Read the signs, guys! If I’m on my phone and tapping my foot because the family of four in front of me can’t decide if they want smoked or roasted turkey breast, I am clearly not in the mood to chat. Maybe if you had told me a funny joke or wanted to commiserate with me, I’d be more up for it. But frankly I don’t want to discuss my favorite side dishes that I pick up from Whole Foods. Because really, do you even give a damn? No, you do not. This is what I mean.

If any man would have approached me like Stephen did in Vegas, I’d be excited to talk to him. Sure, the prospect of free alcohol was running through my brain, but his demeanor is what I’m referring to. He didn’t come across too arrogant or goofy or nervous. He wasn’t trying too hard. He was the right combination of confident, friendly and outgoing. He seemed genuinely curious about us and didn’t ask questions where we all were like, “He doesn’t give two shits about that… why is he asking?”

I don’t know if it was because we were American or what (and frankly I don’t care), but his conversation was good enough that all three of us ended up chatting with his group of friends until we (the girlfriends, not us and Stephen… need to clarify that) left the club that night. And sure, maybe his intentions weren’t genuine, but again, I DON’T CARE. It was Vegas. But it would be nice to meet a non-Vegas Stephen one day who wasn’t so into themselves and they actually took some time to create a meaningful conversation with a woman.

By meaningful, I don’t mean contemplating life and love and poetry and symbolism and all of that jazz. I mean, it can be about all that stuff too, but mostly I’m referring to a conversation that we can both relate to and understand at the time. Trying to get philisophical at the gym or the ball park or the grocery store is not appropo. Save it for the first date. But also, think about engaging in conversations that make us empathize or laugh and heck… make us think. Maybe it’s about your favorite band or a hard time you went through or a hilarious story that’s self-deprecating and amazing all at the same time. A conversation that you’re excited to be in and one that I know you’re not rolling your eyes about when I turn my head. A conversation where you not only share your part, but is, in fact, an actual conversation. One where you care about my response and react to it; one where you don’t have ulterior motives (to hit the sack, to build yourself up, to get sympathy, and so on).

I definitely don’t expect you to try to strike up a “What is love?” conversation in the deli meats section at Whole Foods, but please come up with something a little more intriguing than a question about what green I prefer with my steak. You dig? I’m sure the ladies will agree with me on all aforementioned accounts.

To conclude, I’m not saying all men in Vegas give opinions as wise as Stephen’s, either. And to think for a second that Stephen wasn’t a raging douchebag would be remiss on my part. I forgot to mention he was on Night #2 of his EIGHT DAY STAY IN VEGAS. I went for five nights, four days back in 2010 and I truly don’t know how I came out of that one alive. But then again, he put his number in my phone as “Sexy Stephen British.” So we’ll call it a draw when it comes to the “Undesirable Bro” debate. While he was a cheeky lad, he was witty and clever (including the term “British” made it easy to remember who he was the next day). He definitely had some “pros” to balance out his “cons.”

So based on this post, I guess you can either a) get interested  or b) try turning up the charm, guys. Take your pick.

Now on to some riveting messages from OKCupid! Yes, these are the final online dating messages I will post on here unless I decide to invest my love life in eHarmony or Match.com.

This is from some dude I didn’t respond to and it was sent at 1:15 PM. Yes, in the afternoon. So I can assume he wasn’t binge drinking at this point:


Meet up in LA

Fly to Las Vegas

Sex

On Ice

Diamonds

Shine so bright

We dance all night

Roll die

Champagne on me

Pop

Bottles

Step on the throttle

So much fun

So

Hard

You might just waddle home

Since that one clearly needs no comment… on to this guy. I’m leaving out his handle because, apparently, it’s his whole name. But he’s 33 and this is what he thought would “woo” me enough to give a response:

Hello,

How are you?

I have to admit, you are a 9 on a 1-10 scale,

would you like to find out why you didn’t quite make the 10? Regardless, with you being a 9,

that is just perfect.

I want to meet up with you in the near distant future.

I’m not sure how real this is but soon enough we’ll find out.

So many questions here: 1) Where did it say I  gave a shit from shinola about what rating I got from you? Also, why are men obsessed with this rating system? (See here.) I don’t care why I didn’t make a 10 because a) I couldn’t care less about being rated and b) it’s clear from this message the reason you are still single is because you think telling women what they “rate” in your mind is a way to win their heart. You CLOWN. 2) Why is it “just perfect” that I’m a nine? 3) And “near distant?” Like Back to the Future? When you say, “real this is,” do you mean the internet? The connection you’re feeling over OKCupid? 4) What is up with this weird spacing? Okay I’m done.

Until next time…