Loser. Tool. Socially awkward and destined not to be happy with a normal girl.
Any of these would describe the guy I just spent 37 painful minutes on the phone with. Harsh, you might say? No. I'm being kind; we were on the phone for 41 minutes. I'm being kind about the first four.
Social networking and online dating have become such an everyday part of our lives that the concept of me talking on the phone with a guy I've never met, in lieu of a first cup of coffee, or a walk around town or even, if I was feeling daring, a drink together, isn't really that daring at all. For me, perhaps it is. I don't date online that much! But in this case it happened. It happened sans emailing, sans texting, sans any other communication - the fella and I shared a wink, followed by him asking me to talk on the phone, so we did. And it was painful. 40 minutes of a mild jerk with mildly creepy things to say to me, including that my bangs turned him on and that I look like no one he's ever seen and would I like to now compliment him? Would I now like to share a couple of compliments about him?
Is he freakin' mentally retarded??
Yes. I believe he was. As such, when I told him I felt no chemistry with him he incredulously retorted "None? You feel none?!"
Good night, Mr. Nottamatch. And please don't call.