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Gay Life – The Paulinator: I’m Just Not That Into You …

Posted Monday, February 23rd, 2009 at 2:09 pm by paul in Social Bees. More in 10010

When I first started writing for neighborbeeblog, I asked the question, “Why isn’t he texting me back?” Well, it turns out the movie (and book) were right: he’s just not that into me. He’s a nice guy, but having run into CJ on several occasions since our night together, it seems we’re simply friends. This weekend I had the opportunity to be on the other side and well, this dud(e) was much more deserving of ignored texts.

About a month ago I went home with this guy. For the most part, I used him for a free taxi ride back to my neighborhood since we live in the same vicinity. Okay, to tell the trust, the idea of being with someone else took over and we ended up making out in the back of the taxi. At this point it was clear to me that I was not into him, so I started looking for a way out. During our ride, Mr. Dud started yelling at the taxi driver and behaving as if he was king of the world and clearly he was not. I stopped dead in my tracks and gave him the cold shoulder. The straw that broke the camel’s back was when I asked him what my name was (after telling him at least three times throughout the night). He was silent and couldn’t remember. Let’s just say the night did not end as he had planned. I won’t lie to you. I did spend the night, but would not let him touch me and told him I would be gone in the morning.

The following morning, for whatever reason I gave him my number and he immediately sent me a text as I walked home. Fast forward to this past Thursday night and Mr. Dud ended up showing up at a friend’s birthday party. I nearly freaked out thinking he would remember me since I did make quite a scene in the taxi and how I left the next morning. He must have been pretty messed up since I walked by several times and he had no idea who I was. At one point in the evening, he even bought me a beverage and made it clear he thought I was cute. Having been down that road before, I knew how the night would end and I clearly would not be going home with him again. I excused myself and started talking to a friend of mine about the situation. I sent him a provocative text and as expected he had no idea who sent it to him. My response when he asked who it was were three simple words, “Go to hell.” He sent me more texts trying to figure out who I was and then proceeded to call. I left my phone in my pocket and would hang up as soon as he called so he wouldn’t get the voicemail that would reveal my identity. Oh it was a little painful to watch him freak out about the possibility of missing out on a booty call. He clearly was not getting the point that I wasn’t that into him. When we sat next to each other again, it was business as usual and Mr. Dud had no idea the texts were from me. Well, no idea until I left and sent him one more text, thanking him for the beer. Clearly he had no idea I was next to him practicially the whole night. As I traveled home (thankfully alone) I had to basically turn off my cell, the texts from Mr. Dud were nonstop. When I didn’t respond, clearly he was not getting the message… “I’m just not that into you…” Maybe next time he’ll think twice about not remembering me, because I’m definitely memorable!

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