For those of you who don’t know, I am very active on Twitter (follow me!) I tweet all day long…
*Tweet* I have muthertrucking cramps!
*Tweet* STOP! Brownie time.
*Tweet* Why the freak hasn’t Jorge texted back?
You get the picture. I can even tweet from my phone, so why not tweet during a date to tell everyone how it’s going? I’ll tell you why not.
It was a Monday evening and I was completely exhausted. I really didn’t feel like going on this date, but the rest of my week was booked and I would’ve felt rude cancelling last minute. The bar we were meeting at was close by, so I sucked it up and went.
I knew immediately that it wasn’t a good match. He wasn’t hideous, just not my type. I’d known he was a computer nerd, but geek can go one of two ways: chic or eek. This was more eek.
He wore a blue chambray button down tucked into his jeans and sported a gold stud in his left ear – complete with matching chain necklace. Nothing wrong with that, just… not my type.
I wished I could turn around, drive home and get into my pajamas. But I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I sat down and ordered a pilsner. I knew that although there was no point, I’d have to sit there and make small talk with this man for at least an hour.
I should’ve gone home.
He seemed a little nervous and was much more hyper than I could handle that night. He fired question after question at me so fast I could barely take a breath – much less chug the beer that would’ve helped make the interrogation more bearable. I like when a man tries to get to know me, but this guy was like a question bot.
You went to Japan?What was your favorite part?Did you ride the bullet train?What was that like?Was it really fast?What else did you do?What cities did you go to?
I was so not in the mood for this. If we lived on Planet Honest, I could’ve just said, “You know what, I’m beyond tired and really not feeling this so why don’t we call it a night?” But we live on Earth and I didn’t want to be impolite.
I should’ve been honest.
Tweet Gone Wrong
I excused myself and went to the bathroom. While there, I pulled out my phone and typed a tweet to my Twitter followers:
“Sneaking a tweet, the guy is a geek. With a gold earring and a necklace. Need to escape!”
I tapped “send,” but since AT&T blows, the words “Message send failed” appeared. I tried to troubleshoot for a minute but finally gave up and went back to my eek.
Back at the table, he asked to see my iPhone (he was considering buying one). I handed it over without thinking and he started playing around while I stared out the window, envious of the people driving by in their cars, heading home. Then he held the phone to my face.
It didn’t register at first, because the “message fail” text lay on top of the text I’d tweeted. I just took the phone and said “Oh, figures, AT&T.” But then I realized what had happened and my stomach started to feel googly.
Ohhhhh, shit! Did he see it? Maybe he just saw the fail message. But what if he didn’t? What if he saw the horrid, petty words I tweeted about him? Omigod, omigod. I am such a rotten bitch!
At first he didn’t seem affected, but shortly after, his demeanor changed. He was quieter and stared at his drink like he’d find the meaning of life there. I wondered how well I was concealing the turmoil I felt inside. After about 10 more minutes of blah-blah I suggested that we go.
He walked me to my car, shook my hand and said it was nice meeting me. Oh, I’m sure. About as nice as a deep tissue massage from Freddy Krueger.
Later that night I checked my chemistry.com account and saw that he’d already moved me from “active” to “archived” matches. I can’t say I blame him.
It was one of those times when you just feel like a truly horrible person – like Kanye West, or one of those mean girls from Mean Girls.
I don’t have many regrets in life, but the moments I do regret are the times when I’ve unnecessarily hurt other people.
So please, take this as a lesson and heed this important public service announcement:
Do not, under any circumstances, date and tweet.
Categories: True Story