I was just truly horrible to someone whose last sexy-chat text went unanswered longer than he'd've liked, apparently.
He had contacted me months ago and our convo had fizzled when he invited me to coffee, which remains the worst come-on ever.
It’s like those Craigslist Missed Connections where they’re spinning out these crazy sexual scenes -- “we were on the #7 bus, you were stroking it and just when I was about to go down on you, the homeless person across from us threw up all over your shoes! I know it’s a longshot, but if you see this, I’d love to grab a coffee! Tell me what color your shoes were, uh, before the bum threw up on them, so I know it’s you! And hopefully not the bum!”
Look. If someone is in the park, on the bus, in the sauna, flashing you their cock, or they poked it through a hole in an adjacent toilet stall and smacked you in the face with it, bitch: they are not looking for a coffee date. I’m just saying.
I’ve always found the semiotics of “a coffee” in this context intriguing. It’s the “I don’t usually do this sort of thing” of come-ons. But, again. Bitch. You already did. AND now you’re posting about it on craigslist!
If you want coffee, go to Starbucks. You’re not getting an iced, Half Caff, Ristretto, Venti, 4-Pump, Sugar Free, Cinnamon, Dolce Soy Skinny Latte through that gloryhole. It's not happening.
So Mr. Coffee contacts me again. Months later, mind you. And we’re chatting, rather aimlessly in my opinion. I’m doing other shit as well, of course, like, well more chatting. I know! Who does that, right? I’m chatting with twelve other people on fifteen continents and two other planets, playing farmville, watching animal porn, and posting sunsets and cat vids to facebook. So if I don’t answer your most fascinating and enthralling “sup” right away, get in line, diva.
Here’s what you emeffing don’t do: “helloooooo????”
I mean, who does that? What are you? A six year old whose mum is ignoring her repeated pleas for cocoa puffs at the supermarket? It is the introduction to the tantrum. The “heeeeeerrrrrrreeeee’s Johnny!” of wobbly world. Have you been locked out of your house? Are you stalking a celebrity for an autograph? Oh, you want to have sex with me! That’s your mating call! Oh, I see.
As a grown man, how do you expect another grown man to respond to that? Just off the top of your head?
And when they do respond, if they respond at all -- which they should not if they know what’s good for them -- with an explanation that their phone was off, or their cat died suddenly of a MFHBRI (Massive Feline Hairball Reflux Incident), or they were out getting gang-banged under a bridge, or WHATEVER, and you then want to rehash your feelings of abandonment, it’s probably safe to say it's not working out.
There’s always couples therapy, but I usually wait until at least 15 text messages have been exchanged before going that route.
The only proper response to “helloooooo????” is (obv) “goodbyeeeeeeee!!!!”