“The Text Message Incident”

I figure since it’s been awhile, I can’t just post any dumb blog post. And I really feel like I need to tell this story because it so perfectly exemplifies how awkward I really am. I was blushing even just trying to type this all out. Awwww man, here it goes….

I had just broken up with my ex-boyfriend, I think for the second of three times. And we had been together for a decent amount of time and before we had gotten together I had been dating someone else and before him, there was someone else, and before that… well, you can see the trend. I wasn’t *completely* single for extended amounts of time, pretty much since I was 16. I had never really “dated” and I had no idea what criteria was necessary to constitute a “date.” For example, how do you know if you’re just going for drinks or if you’re on an actual date? Unfortunately, none of my friends were writing blog entries with titles like, “So and So’s Guide to Being Single,” therefore I was pretty much in the dark. The only person I talked to it much about was Kassity. And Kassity, I love you, but you were no help in this department and I’m pretty sure you’ll be the first to confirm this statement.

The only awkward blogger I know....

Well, a friend from college that I had kept in touch with after the glory days eventually came to an end asked me if I wanted to grab drinks one night. Just the two of us. No meeting up with other people, just us, and he offered to come pick me up. So naturally I told Kassity about it and she said, “ooooo sounds like a date!” To which I responded, “No way dude, not a date, just two people going out for drinks.” But of course, the seed was planted. I changed my top to something cuter and put on lipgloss. Yes, this girl’s lipgloss was certainly poppin that night.

He picks me up, we have drinks, we chat, I play with my hair, I realize I’m playing with my hair and get really embarrassed, ask myself, “Gracie what are you doing?! You look like an idiot.” He pays for drinks, gets up to use the restroom and I use the opportunity to check my phone. One new text message from Kassity: “How’s it going? Is it a date?”

Oh yeah, studmuffin? Tell me more.

Now here’s the part I just don’t understand how it all happened. I must have closed my texts out, my iPhone crashed out of messages (shocking.), or something because I had to reopen messaging and responded: “I mean… I think it’s a date. He picked me up and paid for drinks….???”

He comes back from the bathroom, we finish up, and he drives me home. After he parks outside my building, we chat for a little longer, big hug and a good kiss on the cheek from him later, I’m actually pretty sure that I had just gone on a date. I walk into my apartment, Kassity isn’t home and I’m wondering why she never responded back to the text I sent her. Fast forward 8 minutes. New text message from the guy: “Well I think he was trying to be a nice guy!” In response. To the text. I sent Kassity.

I died. I immediately wrote back with a plethora of awkward I’m sorry’s and I haven’t been single in years I don’t know how this all works’ and gah’s, hahaha’s, oh my’s, geez’s, and wow I’m awkward’s.

I avoided him like a venereal disease, my friend, the guy who so kindly took me out for drinks, date or no date, for months. The worst part about the whole thing is that at the beginning of the stupid night I wasn’t thinking it was a date, hoping for a date, or expecting a date. Silly Kassity planted that date seed in my mind and I was ruined.

Good news is the guy and I are totally friends again, although we’ve never once spoken about the “text message incident” ever again. And guy: if you read this- I still feel awkward, please don’t bring it up. Kthanks.

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One response to ““The Text Message Incident”

  1. Cell phones will kill us all. Either from brain cancer or embarrassment. It’s a toss-up.

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