Bravely, I recently tried to make a return to the dating world. After matching with a cute guy on Tinder, we set up a date about a week in advance. Things seemed to be going well, but when the day came along, my date cancelled on me at the very last minute. Naturally, this caused me to shave my head.
The date was planned for Sunday, a day that was actually initially suggested by him and not me. On Sunday morning, I sent a text asking what time we should meet up. Then, like a grade-A loser, I sat around my house for 6 hours waiting for him to respond.
I showered, I got dressed, and I put on an elegant spritz of cologne. I even managed to nurse a frightening upper-lip pimple back to good health to ensure I was ready for our first interaction.
As the time passed, I assumed he was just sleeping in late and would surely be texting me when he woke up. We had even discussed the date the night prior, so I had no reason to believe it wasn’t happening.
After an endlessly long day of waiting around like a total div, a text finally came in around 3PM. A questionable excuse for why he was no longer available and a less than enthusiastic statement inquiring to reschedule.
Being the lonely pushover I am with an eternal desire for love, I initially wanted to say “No problem! I’m free whenever!”
But then I realized there was a problem.
Whether his excuse was real or not, there is no explanation for waiting until 3 in the afternoon to let me know that he wasn’t available. A response even an hour after my initial text would have saved me five hours of lonesome waiting, and I surely would have felt like less of an idiot.
Bu he chose to let me sit around like a moron. So I chose to ignore his message and never speak to him again. And then, I chose to shave my head.
Was that the best choice? I don’t know. I don’t think so. I have an oblong skull reminiscent of the Crystal Skull from Indiana Jones, and I don’t think I can pull off a buzzcut. But in the moment that my date cancelled, it’s exactly what needed to happen.
