A Series of Unfortunate Events in Dating (Part One)


[dropcap]W[/dropcap]hat had started out as awesome (or at least something with the potential for awesome) with KevinBacon had rapidly declined into meh or blurgh.  It was just one thing after another.  Like little land mines of awkward or un-fun or outright no good things just kept blowing up in my face. *Kaboom* *Kersplat* *Waste of fucking time* *Kablam*

A DM shows up the day after the ballgame.  Guess who was at the game last night? it reads the ex.  Fucking super I think.  Though I play it off like it’s no big deal at first.  Because I’m assuming, of course, that he has heeded my request for privacy the night before.  So I text:


That’s crazy that she was there…Vancouver is 

so small lol.  Did you tell her what you were 

doing there?



Probably shouldn’t blog about 2nd date being

at a ball game then 🙁 lol oh well, how’s your

day going?

I told her


Told her you went to the ballgame but not told

her you went with me though right??

No.  I was honest


Sorry to beat a dead whatever but it’s hard to 

tell with how you’re phrasing things and this 

being a text message and all…did you tell her

you’re dating me?

Not like that.  Tell you later.




I responded ok but the truth was a raging ball of irritation and anger.  What.  The.  Fuck.  Stupid.  Motherfucking.  Piece of shit BOY!!  And for more than one reason.  a. because why on earth was he being so vague…spit it the fuck out!!!  b.  ugh.  it was now suddenly clear he was one of those fools that thinks that  saying the word dating means some kind of commitment or even real attachment.  It simply indicates the plural continuous act of going on dates…dating! and finally c. because it was Friday night and now he’d just left me hanging in this limbo of anger and lack of clarity which would likely be unresolved anytime soon.  To be completely honest I was so pissed about this I had to go for a drive.  Just to clear my head and to let my frustrations out somewhere (other than on the head of a boy I barely liked and clearly didn’t respect me).  Now that I think of it…Why did I bother diverting my frustrations?!?!?!  But I digress…I’d have to wait for the next day to find out just exactly what information had been released.

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Victoria Young

Writer. Dater. Masturbator. Stop ruining my jokes by believing the self-deprecation. I am far greater than your boner will ever know.