Can’t Handle the Truth

in Stories

Women, how many times have you heard men complain about us “playing games” and all they ask for is transparency? Yeah well, some can’t handle the truth despite asking for it.

Short Stack initiated contact on OKCupid, and our first conversation went rather well even though he’s the type of guy I’m not normally attracted to (e.g. artist, has shirtless photos on profile, grammar errors, and stands 5’4… that’s 5 feet and 4 inches in total vertical height). See? I’m not always quick to write off a guy and can step out of my comfort zone every now and again!

After a few online conversations, we decided to take it to the next level: texting. In retrospect, this was the beginning of the end. Every day, Short Stack started with a “Good morning, beautiful!”, which is totally fine, but then came the relentless selfies. Every day at least once a day, he would send me a photo of essentially the same thing: him wearing his brown jacket, head cocked to the side, slight half-smile, and in his car driving to work, driving home from work, or driving to the gym. The first two were like, “Aww, he’s cute.” The following 13? Not so much. He did shake it up a bit one day when he sent me a shirtless photo exposing his chiseled body (when you’re 5’4, I guess you have to compensate for what you can’t improve?), but then it was back to the same ol’ same ol’. I did mention to him that I found it odd he takes so many selfies; the hint was gone unnoticed, and I continued to receive aforementioned photos.


I honestly think that if he texted something more substantial along with his selfies, I wouldn’t have minded so much. Don’t underestimate good content, folks! It can provide a healthy buffer to stave off adverse visceral reactions to behaviors you find off-putting. Short Stack didn’t afford himself that opportunity, sadly. Jokes would have been good. Yeah, that or updates on the weather would have been nice too. Sending too many selfies alone = death knell to romantic interest.

Next step in our budding communication: talking on the phone. It went alright enough, I suppose, but there was no real spark. It was rather a letdown because our online conversations had more personality than he did over the phone. *perplexed* Still, I didn’t give up. This had to be a fluke!

Third step: Skype. I believe this is a mandatory step these days. You never know who’s really on the other end of the line, so this helps weed out those tricky Nigerians and Ghanans with their diamond mines. Conversation with Short Stack was even MORE awkward “live”. This doesn’t bode well for a potential relationship, does it? Our conversation consisted of a lot awkward silence or “Yeah, so my parents still live in the ‘burbs. I did my leg workout today. Gosh, you’re so pretty,” or “It takes about 40 minutes for me to drive to work one way. I went to the gym and worked on my chest. You have the nicest eyes and smile.” Again, nothing wrong with what he said, but when it’s coming from someone you’re not feeling, it’s awkward and elicits guilt because it’s not reciprocated. His final compliment was the straw that broke the camel’s back because instead of being smitten, I cringed when I heard, “You look so cute. I wish I could be there to cuddle with you right now.” Trying to be considerate, I couldn’t let this go on any longer because it’s just unfair to the dude because he thinks there’s something between us, and it’s obvious he wants to fiddle my diddle. How can an innocent Skype conversation start off with the slight hope of turning our boring communication into romance quickly crash and burn in a fiery hot mess in a matter of minutes? Oh that’s right; I subconsciously already made up my mind about him but didn’t immediately realize it. Hindsight…

Realizing there was no salvaging what little we had or denying the fact that he’s a little too into his body for my liking, I told him I don’t think this will work. I haven’t had to look at someone in the face and say those lines in a long, long time; so that was um, fun. (Emails and texting or the “fade” have been my primary choices.) As if on cue, the nice guy facade was quickly replaced by the default reaction to rejection: being defensive. He quickly turned it into “Well, I don’t want to be a part of this. I don’t involve myself in anything unhealthy. This is poisonous.” My bad- didn’t realize my honesty is so venomous.

Not one to let things go so easily without a say, I asked him, “Wouldn’t you much rather I be honest than to lead you on? Personally, I think stringing you along without any intention of letting you hit it is more poisonous, but to each his own.” It didn’t look as if he appreciated my honesty because anger isn’t considered a “grateful” reaction in my book. See, people say they want truth and to not have their time wasted, but that isn’t always the case, apparently. Pppsshhh, oh well, whatever- my conscience is clear. Now to cloud it with a stiff, dirty martini!

Martini eyeroll


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