Monday, August 19, 2013

What happens when you are drunk and sleepless

My drunk and sleepless night led me to messaging 162 desperate online dwellers vs. 32 who actually typed up somewhat decent replies. Overall, my search looks semi-promising. It's amazing how much actual effort it takes to be able to A) get a phone number from a guy B) set up a date.

Speaking of flaking. SF is terrifyingly flaky in terms of dating, relationships and friendships. Take a guy I met a a month ago. Jake Bareback was very sweet and an excellent joker. Two minutes into our date, I've officially christened him as walking ADHD. He referred to himself as "high-energy" but I'm pretty positive it was just a euphemism. You know, one of those nice walks in the park when you are expecting to have a chill first-date conversation with your potential half. Unfortunately, a minute or two later you realize it is going to be a soliloquy. In any case, besides his preference for bareback sex coupled with verbal diarrhea, he was a professional flaker. During the first week of our encounter, we pixted some random stuff along with snarky comments, and set up a date at my place twice. He flaked both times. Interestingly enough, he was pretty responsive both times over text as if ignoring the fact he was to come by that night. Fuck me once, shame on you. Fuck me twice, shame on me.

Getting back to our okish cupids. There is this dude who seems promising. I'll call him Owl Dude for now since I don't really know much about him except for his favorite bird of prey for an ink. We texted yesterday exchanging pictures of each other. Today I popped the questions myself and he seemed invested enough to free up his schedule on Wednesday.

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