Stupid

I drop the shipping off each day on my way home from work. Lately, it’s been intense. I’m not one to ever make two trips, so my balancing skills are somewhat legendary with the post office employees. 

I don’t have to wait in line, but I’m not an asshole so I refuse to just dump them and run. I’m polite  and patient.

I’m turning that sad page and letting my favorite man, go. Women who chase men, only catch the slow ones… and I’m no charity case. I’m a helluva catch and he knows it. If it’s not enough for him, it isn’t for me, either. 

I’m not so pleasant as a result.

I had my headphones on when I dropped the packages off yesterday. The parking lot was full, so I’d stacked them fairly high and was backing my way in the doors when I felt the box lift out of my hands. He turned and smiled, asking for my scan sheet. 

J- Here you are.

D- May I print you a receipt, Ma’am.

J- No thank you. 

D-What about my number?

I wasn’t expecting it and blushed. My favorite postal lady started to clap. 

J- This whole time I’ve been declining the receipt and y’all were trying to give me your numbers? Sheesh Carol, you should have clued me in. 

He wrote his number on a piece of paper and handed it to me. I flipped it over and wrote my number on the other side. 

J- I’m old fashioned. I don’t call boys. 

I had a text by the time I got to my car in the parking lot. 

D- All I had to do to get your number was give you mine? You aren’t in need of anything else I have, are you? I like trading with you. 

Here it is, ladies. The opportunity to see him in my sheets this evening, should I so desire.

I’m not interested so I don’t respond. This is how it works. Had I been thinking with half a brain cell, I’d have the man I want right now… but I wasn’t, so I don’t. If you want to keep him, you have to make him beg for it. It’s a very unfortunate double standard but there is NO way around it. 

Make him wait for those text messages and he’ll start calling. Take a few hours to call him back and he’ll start making plans. They’re hunter-gatherers and the harder you are to gather, the more aggressively they’ll hunt you. 

Something we forget when we really want him. Sigh. I really don’t want to entertain anyone else. I’m cool not having what I want, but I’m not about to be interested in some half-assed, lame substitute. You know you’ve met an amazing man when he raises your standards and ruins you for metrosexuals. I know I should be grateful, but today I’m just annoyed.

D- Plans for New Years?

I know exactly what I want to do for the only drunk, slutty holiday… but telling Mr. Postman is probably not a great idea.

J- Yep, my girlfriend and I are going out to find some trouble. 

D- Girlfriend, huh?

I don’t know if I have it in me to entertain these stupid conversations. I’m awfully tempted to play the lesbian card and nope out of this bad time.

J- Yep. One of my very best. 

D- I have a party in the city that night and it’s black tie. I know it’s last minute, but would you like to go?

J- I already have plans, but thanks.

D- You could do both?

J- Oh I could, could I?

D- Yeah it’s a party, not the dentist.

red

#Nothankyouverymuch. Also, my gratitude to Apple for the little moon/silent option. It keeps them quiet while they go away.

My free time is at a premium and I won’t waste a single second on stupid. I’m not interested in him, I’m not attracted to him and I don’t particularly care about anything he has to say. 

Also…I would actually RATHER go to the dentist than a black tie party with a stranger on a first date. 

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