The following is an actual text exchange with a 34-year-old man
Him: When are we going for the VQD
Reader Note: VQD stands for Very Quick Drink. I invented it. I copyright it.
Me: I'm usually free eves and weekends
Him: Well one of those nights, you are mine.
Reader Note: This is a non-commital answer. Warning bells! He is not as serious as he sounds. To test my theory, I write...
Me: There is a [place] at [location]
Him: That could work...
Reader Note: Second non-commital answer. The idea of a date is effectively dead in my mind. Single Girls don't text.
Him: and what are we doing after this VQD
Reader Note: If you want a sure thing, I accept cash.
Me: depends on how cute you are (read: depends how successful you are)
Him: I have a few ideas. And they involve both of us naked.
Me: only if you are very lucky (read: only if you are very successful)
Him: I should bring my horseshoe and rabbits foot then
Me: very funny
Him: do you have a blackberry
Me: only nerds have blackberrys
Him: so thats a yes then
Reader's Note: It's too bad he is a schmuck, because this is fairly entertaining.
Me: There's a great app for your blackberry. It's called an iPhone.
Him: There is a great app for you. It's called the back of my hand. (Hawt!)
Him: You like biting?
Me: No comment, Badboi. I know you do.
Reader's Note: badboi is his online name. I wasn't trying to be cool and write like Avril Lavigne's first album.
Him: and so what if I do?
Me: I like being bitten. By the right person. (Fact.)
Him: Note to self...Me likey the fun kinky stuff
Me: Then why are you saying it in a baby voice? (EW!)
Him: Haha. Fine I like it fuckn kinky. That better?
Me: Yes. Better question: Do you have your own place? I live with roommates.
Him: Nadda. Ever home alone?
Reader's Note: You live with your parents?!?!
Me: Then I guess it ends here. Too bad, so sad.
Him: So I take it you're never home alone?
Me: I'm interested in sex, not running a hostel.
Him: And I want to fuck too (well, son, we all want things...)
Me: I only date guys who are successful. Sorry kiddo.
Him: Don't call me kiddo. Like you're my babysitter.
Me: You bit off more than you could chew, Mr. Kiddo.
Him: Ha. that comment tells me everything I need to know about you. Lose the Ego.
Me: I forgive you, Mr. Kiddo. Maybe I'll dress up like your babysitter for Halloween and we can work out any unresolved issues.
Full Disclosure: Mr. Kiddo began texting again on a Thursday afternoon about a week later. He did not identify himself and so I simply asked him to call after 5pm and then deleted it. He really did not want to do that so he basically ignored me and tried asking me out on a date via text message. This read: "What are you doing Mon or Tues of next week?" and "Do you want to hook up next week?". Again I deleted it. When I got up the following day he had filled my text inbox during the night with this message "??" and "So?".
Me too - Mr. Kiddo - me too... *sigh*
The moral of the story is ... there is no moral. Do not allow men to endlessly text you! It's childish, it's annoying and no grown man who actually wants to date you will rely on this technique to close the deal.