It was no surprise to me that I felt myself stumbling through my phone convo with Cheryl, despite how well I believe I was able to communicate with her in person. It had been a month. It was like talking to someone completely different. Phone convos for me with people I don't know too well are sort of like floating around in the middle of the ocean without a life preserver. It is unnerving.
I gave her some gratuitous small-talk then asked if she would like to go bird-watching with me. (Canadian Geese were a thread that had run through our brief relationship from our very first written contact.) She said she couldn't make it that day. (I would never ask a woman that I hardly knew to go run out on me the same day.)
I sat there hoping that she would suggest another time. But all I got was chatter about how proud she was to do her laundry (She was proud because she was still recovering from major surgery.) I kept hanging and hanging on that phone hoping that she'd volunteer another time. I was not going to suggest a time. Suggesting appointment times is a good way of having women who I suspect of being not fully interested in you, cancel on you later. If she wanted to see me, she would have to volunteer a time. When she asked me if I was aware of some obscure song about birds by some band I've never heard of, I officially became pissed off. My ego was out there on a limb and she was making this bullshit smalltalk. I didn't want to speak to her anymore. I told her that if she was interested that she could e-mail me some times that she might be available. I could have suggested we do something simpler like have dinner or coffee or whatever, but I was irritated and needed to get off the phone before I my irritation become noticeable, if it wasn't already. She then said, "So you went me to e-mail you about what times I am available?" She was slightly incredulous. I think she suspected that it might have been a covert rejection. I answered affirmatively. She said she could possibly do it tomorrow. I told her I couldn't do it tomorrow. I couldn't because of that fucking asshole 34 year old Johanna who I had scheduled a date with. I said I couldn't do it tomorrow. There was probably irritation in my voice by that time. I had felt really offended by Cheryl when she asked me that stupid question about that song when I was in a vulnerable position. If I was cooler I would of calmly asked her if she would like to do it next week or do something else, but I felt that she was too capricious and was through with dealing with her. I needed to get the fuck off the phone. Our phone convo ended shortly afterward.
An hour later I started to become very tired. Beverly and I had planned to see a movie later. I become more and more exhausted. I realized that I wasn't tired. I realized this was depression. I called Beverly to cancel. I wrote The woman who sucked the life out of me: Part 1 in an attempt to get this poison out of my system. Writing this made me remember why I was so fond of Cheryl. And I felt even worse. In an act of madness I sent the following text message to Cheryl:
It's Dickie. Sorry for bad phone vibe. Phones make me panic. I really would like to see you again. We can have coffee or dinner. Whatever: [UNIDISLOSED]
I realized immediately afterward that trying to damage control after botching the phone convo would never ever work and only serve to humiliate me. This text message would go down as one of my worst humiliations.
The next day, as I strongly suspected, Johanna the 34 year old cancelled on the day of our date. Here are her words:
Hi Dickie,
I'm going to have to cancel our meeting tonight. I'm very sorry for the late notice. I've thought about this and I just don't think we're a match. I don't want to waste your time or mine.
Best of luck to you here,
Johana
I will say one thing: She was absolutely right in saying that we are not a match because she is a snake! I dreaded my date with her and sacrificed seeing my dream woman Cheryl on that day because I consider it rude and distasteful to stand people up. Johana calls herself an artist in her profile. I can tell you that there is not a single ounce of artist in her because she lacks a soul. She is on Fast Cupid 24/7. She probably had men stacked at least three deep for her Sunday afternoon slot. I was one of her fallback dates. Goddamn fucking slime.
As slimy as Johana is, it would be a cop-out for me to blame Johana for the failure of any potential relationship I could of had with Cheryl. I actually believe I did the right thing to get off the phone with Cheryl when I did. I did not want to let my irritation with her show, and I wanted her to volunteer an appointment time for the date, because I didn't want to force her into something she didn't really want to do. Cheryl could be just terribly naive about dating. This is evidenced by the excessively loud place she brought me to on our first meeting. Maybe Cheryl liked me. Maybe she didn't. I strongly suspect she had mixed feelings and I know mixed feelings always lead to disaster. I should never have pursued her after she did not get back to me. I'm too emotionally vulnerable to handle a woman like her, who do not give clear signals. Maybe I will later, but I have no animosity at all towards Cheryl. Maybe she didn't really like me, but I really liked her.
The story does not end here. Despite the fact that I am an atheist I believe that I was saved by God from total humiliation. I texted Cheryl through Skype because texting with a cell phone is gruelling torture for me. The next day, Skype sent me a message that the text message I sent Cheryl never got through. God had sent down an angel to block that text message from being sent to Cheryl, thus saving me from a lifetime of humiliation. Only you and I know how desperate and pathetic I am. I'm pretty sure I have learned my lesson. Or have I? Today I solicited another 34 year old. I believe I am unable to resist them. But who really amongst us can resist the temptation of 34 year old?
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