I've been promising a week of Tales from the Vortex, and folks, it is time for me to deliver.
I kicked this off last week and I shared this naked story awhile back, and this week, will attempt to fill all five days with posts that describe my best various and sundry dating tales.
Let's face it: I have had my fair share of horrible dating experiences, and have coined the phrase "The Vortex" to describe a possible explanation for where men go when they stop calling, and fall off the planet, out of nowhere.
Where necessary, due to proximity of time or location, names have been changed to protect the guilty.
This story is an oldie but goodie. It happened when I was a junior in college. I didn't even realize the extent of the horrors of dating. I didn't yet know of the Vortex, and I certainly hadn't experienced it. I'd dated a few guys in college, including my high school boyfriend, and hadn't yet realized that guys would say all kinds of things and then fall into a hole never to be heard from again.
I had a lot to learn.
His name was Matt. I'd been introduced to him by a sorority sister, and I had heard the stories. I knew he was older and had a reputation for dating a lot. I was flattered he chose me—and had fun being the center of attention at Sunday breakfast in the sorority house. Girls wanted to hear stories about him, how much fun were we having? and who did we hang out with the night before?
Our "relationship" was brief, but we had fun. I knew he wasn't the man of my dreams, but he taught me how to enjoy the attentions of someone besides my high school boyfriend. He was loud, funny, silly and smart. When we went out, people wanted to be near him. He was known.
Things were going well, and we had had a fun few months hanging out. I was asked to go with him to his fraternity weekend in the mountains of North Carolina, and we doubled with my friend and her boyfriend. After a great weekend, we were pulling back into Athens, and had just turned on to Milledge Avenue, right by my house. Matt was driving, and I was in the front seat, gleaming with the glow of attention, attraction and excitement.
He burped loudly, and didn't excuse himself. All of us laughed—in that Will Ferrell stupid humor kind of way—and then I jokingly said, "Hey, aren't you supposed to be trying to impress me at this stage?"
The car's atmosphere changed. The air grew cold. Not a sound was made.
I'd clearly made some sort of dating faux pas, but for the life of me, I wasn't sure what it was.
We pulled into the sorority parking lot, and my friend and I got out. Matt gave me a brief, yet chilly hug, and we said goodbye.
I didn't hear from him for about 10 days, which in college time, was the equivalent of 10 years. When your social life didn't just revolve around weekends, you saw people more often.
I asked my friend, the girl who'd witnessed the freeze-out in the car, and she shrugged it off claiming he was just busy.
This guy was something like a 6th year senior. How busy was he, exactly? It was doubtful.
The following Thursday, I saw him at the local hangout, the one where you got to take the previously purchased 22-ounce plastic mug with you and for $3 you could fill the thing up with ice cold draft beer. I approached him gingerly, with a smile.
His reaction was clear. His face didn't break into the smile he'd normally given me.
It was over. I knew it, and so did he. Inquisitively, and frankly, naively, I asked him what was wrong? He shrugged, and said casually, "I just am not feeling it."
Uh, ok. I thought we were joking about a burp, but maybe that was just me.
I walked away, shaking my head.
I never saw him again.
VORTEX.
Not two weeks later, though, I heard that he was dating someone and it was "serious." He eventually married her and had kids with her. I haven't really thought of him much since, and I do realize that he wasn't really in the Vortex.
He just wasn't interested. And, considering his likable qualities were most often enhanced by him drinking 48 PBRs out of a can, I don't really mind.
But it taught me one thing.
Men will close up, walk away and fall off the planet if they so choose. And you will be left wondering.
It was a tough lesson for a rookie dater, but it paved the road of many, many Vortex tales to come.
Oh, and I'm still not a fan of wild burpers who don't excuse themselves. I can't help it.
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3 comments:
Oh yes, a simple "excuse me" can go a long way! As for him falling off the face because he met someone else, I call that kind of person a pansy. I mean, how hard is it to come out and say, "I met someone?!" Hmmm, now that I think about it, sometimes that *is* hard to say, especially for a inexperienced college-dweller. Never mind. ;o)
Gah, I hate the stories that ends with he met another girl and married her and had babies. It just seems kinda harsh, even if he was a rogue burper.
Maybe Matt was finally comfortable enough around you, after a couple months of dating, to burp in front of you. I know my husband wishes we weren't as comfy around each other as we are! however. .sort of comes with the territory!
matt was a dud anyway. At least he married the girl after you. I don't see the big deal when that happens. I'd rather they leave me for greener pastures and happiness than some hooch who sucks.
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