Yet I still didn't listen to my gut, which said, don't walk, but RUN away.
Maybe it was the fact that his very first question was, "Is that your real hair?"
Or, maybe it was that his second question was, "When are you cooking dinner for me?" To which I responded that he shouldn't expect a woman to cook for him when he first meets her, and if he wanted to get to know me, he'd have to take me out instead. Then, I walked away.
|(Photo credit: Flickr user @Sarah_Ackerman)|
Among his texts: "So why did you give me your number?"
Me: "Because you asked for it." [Hey, if you ask a stupid question, you get a stupid answer.]
Him: "So you give your number to every guy who asks for it?"
Me: *blank stare* at my phone, deciding not to validate such foolishness with an answer.
The funny thing is he was a cutie. So, why was he so pressed?
Probably because he's an absolute jerk.
I managed not to talk to him for another day or so. Then we finally had a phone conversation. He told me he couldn't tell me his profession because it was "very important" but assured me he had a "great job." He told me--for the second time (the first being when he bragged when we met)--about the several overseas trips he has planned to various countries next year. I, probably poorly so, feigned interest, while making a mental note that he hadn't bothered to ask me a single thing about myself, but...
...then came the killer question: "So, why are you single?"
Mind you, this was after I very briefly explained that I hadn't traveled much for pleasure recently because of family obligations following the death of my mother. Why on earth would you then ask me why I'm single? Is it not clear I've been a little busy...and um, traumatized? Plus, I told him that generally, women don't like to be asked why they're single. "Well, it's never been a problem for me," he informed me. (Me: thinking to myself--probably because they just never called you again. Sigh.)
The conversation continued to go downhill from there. He asked me my sign. "Libra," I told him. He then told me that he's a Libra, too, and that Libras don't get along. And, by the way, he added, if I want to see him, I should let him know, but otherwise, it was no sweat off of his back.
Yes, he really said that.
I took a deep breath and told him to have a good evening. He hasn't called since. Thank God.
And next time, I'll listen to my gut.
Talk back: Have you ever ignored a gut feeling and found yourself regretting it later? Tell us about it.