The Power of the 😅

When no should mean no but somehow it still doesn’t

I woke up and chose violence this morning. Now don’t get me wrong, that was never my intention. In fact, I was going to take the dog on a walk and enjoy a nice cup of hot coffee before I descended into a spiral of depression and angst BUT the universe had other plans for me.

It all started last Friday, exactly seven days ago. I’d recently gotten back on to Hinge (the online dating app) because as much as I’m prepared to die alone, I’d also like someone to eat pizza and have sex with on Mondays without having to make an actual effort and leave the house. So far Hinge had proven to be as lackluster as all my past experiences but this time I’ve stuck it out more than a week (five days too long to be exact). So Friday night around 10, I opened my app and decided to clean out my inbox, making way for fresh disappointment. I went to my “likes” list and there was a message that said “Sup!” It took me a minute to recognize him as a former customer. A few years ago I worked at some shit hole bar for a very limited time but in that span, I met this local. We’ll call him Gordon (like Ramsey, because he’s a chef and potentially an asshole).

From what I could remember, Gordon seemed ok. He was definitely kind of goofy but funny, seemed nice enough. He was a decent enough customer, never made a scene, and as I recall, was well liked by staff. I even remember distinctly thinking he might actually be fuckable when I went to one of his chef pop-ups and met this very hot, exotic chick he’d gone out with. She seemed wildly out of his league, and I was stunned. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t just another goofy bar drinking beers by himself all night. Since then Gordon, the hot chick, and I are all Instagram friends, weirdly watching each other live’s from a distance like total strangers. That is until Friday night.

So it’s 10pm on Friday night and I get this message from Gordon. I respond hey, what’s up, yada yada. I get an extremely lackluster response. We exchange messages a couple times while I’m quickly losing the little bit of residual interest from that pole dancer experience three years ago. There was just nothing there. Not funny, not interesting, no effort. Just blah blah blah, followed by the proverbial lol. But being as he’s already technically been vetted and I haven’t been out in awhile AND I didn’t think it was really a link-up so much as two single people who already know each other meeting up, I ask if he’d like to get drinks one night the following week (because it was the middle of the night on both our “sundays”). He said yes. I said great. I shoot my phone number over and tell him I’m going to bed but let me know what works for him next week.

My phone buzzes immediately.

So in code speak, telling someone you are going to sleep is actually code for “don’t follow up this conversation”. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. The message says “It’s Grodon.” Ok, I let it slide. Five minutes later, bzzzzzz. “Can’t wait to grab a drink.” Mmmm, ok, Imma let that slide too because MAYBE he’s being sincere and MAYBE he’s just letting me know he’s actually excited. Two minutes pass, bzzzzzz. Nah. It’s official. He’s doing that stupid guy shit where you’ve literally laid out clear boundaries just so he can step right the fuck over them. You may be thinking I’m overreacting, I’m being dramatic. Maybe he just wanted to visit. But keep in mind it is late. I’ve already told him I’m working in the morning. I’ve already established that I’m going to bed, which means sleep, which means non communicado. Then he’s chosen to continue to hit my phone up three more times over the course of 30 minutes. That’s not a misunderstanding, it’s manipulation. So I roll over and check the text. It says:

Kinda wish it was now 😅 but ur in bed 😅

Ok, let’s dissect this nine words for all it really means.

No.1: I know you told me you were going to sleep but I'm going to continue pestering you because I’m not getting what I want.

No.2: I’ve acknowledged that you don’t want to meet but I’m going to tell you what I want because guilting women into doing things they don’t want or make them uncomfortable is a very natural move for me (and most other men).

No.3: Since you’re already in bed, you could just invite me over. This is not a stretch of my imagination even though it seems like it.

No.4: What the fuck are sweat emojis and why are there TWO behind each partial comment? Because I know this comment is a trap and I’m trying to act like it’s still a joke aka lololol.

A brief history on emojis: The “Grinning Face w/ Sweat” emoji was created in 2010 (for stupid mother fuckers to use, created by other stupid mother fuckers who don’t know how to use their actual words to coerce women). It represents nervous laughter, relief after a close call, or awkwardness. Often used when narrowly avoiding a disaster, dealing with awkward situations, or expressing mild discomfort. What’s uncomfortable here? Why would he be stressed or feel awkward? Well because he’s a strange man with nothing to say to another stranger except “hey, I’d sure like to come over to your house in the middle of the night.” Yeah, that does sound awkward doesn’t it? It can also be used to express frustration or confusion, like why doesn’t this strange woman care about me nutting and why wouldn’t she want me (a strange man) coming to her house in the middle of the night for said nut? Quite the conundrum.

Now I’ve been milling over this trope all week, trying not to be a passive aggressive twat. Was I going to meet up with him after this? Negative. Had I lost that 1% of interest I’d talked myself into Friday night? Absolutely. But I also love a good game of "Just wait and see” so that’s what I did. I waited a whole week. All the way until Thursday, his next day off, and Thursday came and went. With. No. Word. Crazy since he “cOuLdN’t WaiT tO MeEt Me.” Fucking idiot.

I know this seems nit-picky on my part, but I can assure you it’s not. It’s actually extremely acute awareness of just how fucking disgusting and sleazy men really are and how honed in I am to fuckhead behavior after many, many years of exposure. I’ve been in this exact situation a million times before with every Gordon, Dick, and Harry and it always ends the same. They feign interest for a millisecond to get what they want at that exact moment then cry like little babies after their manipulation for immediate results fails because, shock of all shocks, a woman puts her boundaries and comforts ahead of his (what?!?!?!?!).

Fresh off this annoying exchange with Gordon the Deceitful, I was immediately bombarded by a guy named Aaron. A-aron is a complete stranger who sent me a message yesterday that he would be in town tomorrow (so today) and would I like to “get into some trouble.” I hate when men use so many words, it confuses me. There was zero communication back and forth, just that he’d be in town. I took this “trouble” to mean would I like to get together and show him a good time, aka drive all the way to the Strip to suck his dick or potentially find myself in an uncomfortable group setting with him and five friends. Against my better judgement, I decided to let him know I’m working all weekend because of Superbowl. This should have been understandable because it’s sport’s version of Christmas. Every man’s excuse to act like a drunk heathen asshole then throw a chair and throw up in the sink. He responded with “24/7?” Boy, these guys are so verbose. I kept it cool and said “well, I’m working a lot this weekend.”

Then this morning I woke up to this:

Surely we can still get into some trouble.

Yessssss A-aron. You’re totally right. Even though I’ve just told you I’m working, that thing I do so I can pay for housing, transportation, and healthcare, I can still put my other respoinsibilites and time aside to meet you, yet another entitled stranger, so I can get drunk, find myself in a compromising position I never wanted to be in anway, fuck some Class A Asshole on his weekend bender, and then drag my degraded, demoralized ass home hours before my next shift. When you put it that way, I defintiely think I can make some room in my schedule. So that’s what I told him:

Yeah, you’re right. I can find some time this weekend to sneak away. I’ve worked with a hangover before lol 😅.

Yes girls, that’s right. I hit him with a Grinning Face w/ Sweat emoji (thanks Gordon!). I’ve eased his conscience. He thinks he’s already won as he’s just overcome that first hurdle of charming me into doing something, we don’t know what yet, against my better judgement. The trap is set. I’m going to be agreeable and flirtatious, make him think everything is his idea and I’m just a fly caught in his charming web. Then pow! I’m gonna ruin his fucking weekend. I don’t know when yet, or where, but poor Aaron is about to be the unfortunate recipient of years of disappointment and disgust for the male species. For every middle of the night text, for every bothersome phone call, for every time some fucking guy heard me say no to something but pushed anyway. Because when I said no, I don’t want to meet up with you and show you a good time because of XYZ (even though we should never have to give someone a reason), he should’ve just said ok and went on to the next right swipe.

Stay tuned to find out how my fantasy meet-up with Aaron goes. And special shoutout to Gordon for teaching me a valuable key to male communication. You’re the real MVP.

xoxo, The Bitter Bitch