Twitter, Texting, Condoms, and Bush

 

[dropcap]R[/dropcap]emember when I thought dating someone from Twitter would be fucking awesome?  Well turns out there were a few glitches.

The first was obvious and universal:  I suddenly felt like I had to censor what I was saying.  Not necessarily in regards to things like balls and blowjobs but with regards to tweeting about other boys.  Should I still tweet about The Vampire even though Kevin Bacon can see?  Should I change my behavior for a boy?  What about tweeting about other boys?  What about tweeting my thoughts about Kevin Bacon himself?  What was a girl to do.

The second was Kevin Bacon specific:  He had an ex dating blogger.  And while on our first date I had recognized her name as someone who retweeted me, I wasn’t certain it was a regular thing.  For all I knew she just stumbled across my Twitter and didn’t even read the blog.  This was not the case.  The day after I wrote the Bird Seed Theory, she retweeted it.  Apparently she had liked.  And what’s not to like.  It was brilliant lol.  But seriously.  It was clear she was a regular reader.  Which in theory is fucking awesome.  But in practice, really freaked me the fuck out.  

So initially Twitter was just a problem for me.  Because it was making me uncomfortable.  And then it became a problem…well I don’t know if problem is the right word…but…it became a thing when the night before our ballgame, our second date, our Thursday night, KB asked me

Did you have a date tonight?

 

Uh…

Busted.  Thanks twitter.

 

Haha.

Normally if a guy asked me that I’d kind of say

none of your business…but we’ve got a bizarre 

situation with twitter and all that.  

I know. No biggee. You have research

to do.

 

The truth is 

it’s kind of along the lines of ‘do you really want

to know this stuff?’

Like “was your last boyfriend bigger 

than me?”

 

No…lol not like that…plus would any girl ever

answer that honestly?!?! Current man = always

the biggest and best 😉

Good.  On a related note, my ex texted me

to ask me to come pick up my box of extra

large condoms.

 

(I of course assume he’s just making a joke)

Heyyoooo *ouch* I think you just poked me in 

the eye through the phone #HUGE

Apparently the new guy didn’t fit *ouch 

indeed*

 

 

Okay.  This was getting a bit weird.  So I asked.  Was he joking or did this actually happen.  Apparently it actually happened.  The conversation continued where I tried to convey that this was weird and creepy (while being nice) and he tried to convince me that this was normal and why be wasteful.  But even if the latter was the right case scenario.  Why bring it up to a girl you’re going on a second date with.  Not to mention a girl who is already skeeved out by the numerous connections to the ex and another girl.

But then we were back to the witty repartee.  It was baseball + adorable + hilarious + sexual metaphors.  And we were hitting it out of the park #SeeWhatIDidThere.  Until I changed the subject and asked about pet peeves.  Which were all pretty normal.  Until he answered Bush.  I of course clarified, the political figure or the hairstyle? and he responded both.  And we were back to…not great.  Because while I love some sexual innuendo and witty banter.  Telling a chick, you’ve never even kissed, that you don’t like a bush.  Well.  That rubs a girl the wrong way.  Not that it would actually matter as I don’t go bush au naturel but to me it feels akin to a guy saying I don’t want to know if you ever have your period either.  And immediately I’m like I’m woman hear me roar and fuck you and all that jazz.

So I changed the subject to something more neutral.  And then it was time for bed.  And tomorrow would be our second date.

 

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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.