Don’t piss me off, I’ll start giving your number to random guys at the bar.

September 21, 2010 § 1 Comment

With text messaging recently introduced as a weapon in the arena, the rules of courtship have shifted to accommodate this new utensil. We must remember, not too long ago, probably only within the last five years, the “3-5 day rule” still applied. Thanks to men who are chicken-shit and the movie Swingers, it was known to make a girl wait for a phone call after acquiring her number. How or why this rule came to fruition, we may never know.

It became customary for a gentleman to meet a lady on a Saturday, if she liked his feathers she would politely pass along her digits. He would then wait up to five days while she simmered in angst: he likes me / he likes me not syndrome. Somewhere around Wednesday, and the point where she’s compulsively consuming pints of Ben & Jerry’s like it was her last meal, he’ll offer to take her out over the weekend.

I’m not lying when I say that there is a certain amount of women who have a go-to fake number. Some men do not speak body language. Excuse me, MOST men do not speak body language, and none of them seem to understand that a woman may simply be making casual conversation. Boys please, just because she laughs at one joke does not mean she wants to or would ever swap spit. Serving up false numerals gives a chick an out. She doesn’t want to outright offend or make a scene, but there are some men who won’t take no for an answer. The fake number was originally invented for that gangly, drunk, socially forward, sign language translator with a squirrelly eye that just won’t leave you and your bestest alone.

However, the introduction of text messaging has completely changed the game. When the modern manboy/horn-dog succeeds in getting a female’s digits there is no latent period. He’ll most likely text the very next day, or even worse, right there in front of her.

Case in point, my girlfriend and I were enjoying a very drunk night out. Her boyfriend, who we so affectionately call ‘dad’ was out of town and we were left to our own devices which included attempting a game of pool. A couple of Massachusetts boys, or Mass-holes, noticed how unsupervised we were along with the less then expert handling of our cues and the harassment began. I went with my knee jerk reaction and unleashed the fake number. Regretfully, it backfired.

When an immediate text occurs it completely disarms the fake number, my whole equilibrium was thrown off, now I have to come up with a lie: I lost my phone / oh that, that’s my friends phone / She likes me to hold it for her when she’s been drinking / Her phone is dead / Oh that lighting up like that, yeah, its on the fritz / Stop yelling at me / The voices are telling me to punch you. / I don’t want to play games, I just don’t like your face. Sadly, for these boys from Southy, I was able to deflect by collecting my counterpart and leaving them with our tab.

An instantaneous intro text is actually clever on the man’s part because it elevates the anxiety of a telephone conversation, which most men claim to hate anyway. But it’s because all of them, in some way, are frightened to talk to women. The administering an on-the-spot-text opens a dialogue immediately. If she responds promptly with batting eyes and giggles he can then space out his replies in intervals, creating a rollercoaster of girlish worry while allowing him ample time to think of clever responses to keep her on the leash.

Unfortunately, this could go on for days, even weeks if the guy is passive aggressive enough. Boys, listen up, the ladies are wising up to these antics and will loose interest if you volley text too long before actually calling her and asking her out. And about the go-to fake number, we’re wising up to that too. So don’t piss me off, because I’ll start giving out your number to random guys at the bar. *LOL fine baby girl. It’s the handsome guy you met last night at pub.* Now lads, that’s one confusing text from last night.

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§ One Response to Don’t piss me off, I’ll start giving your number to random guys at the bar.

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