What [else] you can learn from Random Dudes I Met in Europe.
I think there is another lesson to be learned from my Random European Encunters.
Say you meet a new guy over the weekend. Say you two really hit it off. Say there was some mad make-out sesh in the hallway by the bathrooms (or not – whatev). Say you gush to your friends about him.
Say you then wait three whole days wondering if he’s going to call.
Say he doesn’t.
While he’s-just-not-that-into-you may very well apply to this situation, I’d say that book does a flipping good job of simplifying things and letting men off the hook. Just a bit. There are, actually, several other reasons he doesn’t call – that have nothing to do with not being into you.
Let’s look at the Random Dudes Nikki Met in Europe, for example. In no particular order.
Dude #1: Irish Bartender
Yeah. Don’t think I need to say much more about this one.
Dude #2: The Canadian Engineer
So. The Engineer from Canada and I met one evening and realized we had similar interests in outdoor activities in the area and were both traveling alone. We hence made plans, no expectations about this being anything other than friendly, to meet up the next morning for breakfast. We planned to rent bikes together, go for a quick 12km ride, then a quick hike to the top of one of the smaller mountains in the area.
By the end of the day, it was becoming more obvious that the whole expectations-about-this-being-anything-other-than-friendly thing was… well. Out the window. For him, anyway. How do I know? Honey, you just know. Unfortunately for both of us, I wasn’t really that interested in him. SO… we exchanged business cards and promised to touch base soon to exchange pics, etc.
Dude #3: That English DB
What I didn’t mention in my story is that Potato Crispy is going to be in my area in the near future. Prior to coming out as a Big Fat Hypocrite slash Racist Ass, he went on and on about taking me out to dinner and would I go out with him, even though he wasn’t (say it with me people) intellectually on my level. He swore I could expect an e-mail and what were his chances of a kiss at the end of the date? Being classy (duh) I played coy instead of insulting and didn’t shoot him down. I told him I like a man who shows initiative and I would most definitely go out with him if he in fact e-mailed me, but I’d have to see how the night went as far as any smooching was concerned.
Dude #4: Jail Bait
Ok so I am sure he was at least 21, but Jail Bait definitely took me on a trip back to undergrad. Wow. In addition, just as a side note, JB kind of a little bit blew my mind – but only in comparison with Irish Bartender. Why? Because Bait apparently had the skills IB was cah-learly lacking. There I was, what little Sober Brain (thank you, ManShopper) I had left wondering WTF I was doing in what appeared to be a dorm room (it was an apartment, ok, even if the bedroom had two double beds) and preparing for a repeat of the, um, (I don’t know how to put this delicately) jackhammer hands from a few nights previous.
And lo and behold. Kid has some skills. Yes, sir, I will have another.
I think perhaps he brought me back to reality (oh, hi, iz in ur dormroom, bein inappropriate with minorz) as I was leaving by saying something about facebooking me. Um, ok. And that the bed we had been on wasn’t even his. Wait. What? (oh, I am definitely back in undergrad).
Dude #5: The Writer
I stayed with the Writer because I found his place on airbnb. Cheap, in a great location, beautiful place. He also spent the entire day squiring me about, showing me the sights. We went on a nice hike, he has an effing fantastic golden lab. It really was fabulous and I had a great time.
Yet, as with the Canadian Engineer, by the end of the day, the Writer was Smitten. Despite this starting out (and remaining) completely platonic.
Now, I need to digress for just one hot minute. Just to get this off my *ahem* chest.
This happens to me. On occasion. I swear to whatever you’d like me to that, when it does, I have not been flirting. I did not get all touchy-feely, or complimentary, or giggly, or coy. And yet, suddenly I realize this dude I have no interest in, whom I have shown no interest towards, is totally 100% smitten. I don’t know what I do, it’s usually in situations where I am actually not trying to be anything but 100% ME – goofy, silly, slightly ridiculous, happy me. Apparently, that klutzy doofy nerdy person is also, awesomely[*sarcasm*] enough, charming.
This, dear reader, is fucking annoying. Because once this happens, that’s it for me being me. Now I am uncomfortable, awkward, and just want to run for the fucking hills. And I have to suppress that urge (as well as less dramatic yet equally weird behaviors like the inability to make any and all eye contact) and pretend like nothing has changed. That. Is. Irritating. and I hate it.
It happens and – mother fucker – my fun is over.
But I digress.
So. Here are five different men I met over the course of my travels. Now, I ask you, have I heard hide nor hair from any – even the ones clearly into me – in any way, shape, or form?
Why? Because they’re just-not-into-me? Um. No.
Let me explain.
Dude #1, Irish Bartender: Random hook-up, we live in different sides of the world, no pretense here. No contact expected, none attempted. Done.
Dude #2, Canadian Engineer: He didn’t think I was into him. Look. I think he’s not exactly that ballsy of a guy anyway (probably part of the reason I wasn’t into him), but he put out the signals (modest as they were) and I did not respond. He’s not an idiot (he’s an Engineer). And, honestly, even though he was cute, he was right. I didn’t respond to his (modest) signals on purpose.
Dude #3, The English DB: Mr. Big Talk also knew I wasn’t into him. Despite me responding with “I like a guy who takes the initiative” blah blah blah, he’s not an idiot either (although this is debatable). However. Slightly different from the Engineer, I think he simply wasn’t about to put his precious ego out there and contact me. Despite the promises (*whew*).
Dude #4, Jail Bait: Although he was a far cry better with his, uh, hands, than IB (even if IB was more age-appropriate, who knew), the bottom line is still the same: Random hook-up, no contact expected (despite the FB comment…).
Dude #5, The Writer: He’s the same as the Engineer. Smitten, but knows I’m not interested.
You should also add to this that most of these guys are… very much like some American dudes. They really aren’t going to put themselves out there. This is the point that I am very roundabout-ly (don’t think that’s really a word) trying to make. YES he may not be that into you, but news-fucking-flash, he may also be a big fat baby who would rather pretend nothing happened than risk (omfg!) rejection. His lil ego might get bruised.
And, yeah, I get that all five men are in other countries. But, I argue this isn’t all that important to the point I am trying to make.
For further evidence, compare these gentlemen with, oh, the Italians.
The Italians fucking love me. I don’t know why. They just do. I’m not even blond.
Italian #1: No English Needed
I already told this story (ok well Amy did). What wasn’t retold was that No English drove up and down outside my hotel later that night, and, when that didn’t work, sat in his car, hoping I would come out. Unfortunately for both of us, I was P.T.F.O.
Do I have any doubt he would have tried to make contact with me, if he only knew how? Nope.
Italian #2: Lil Johnny
Also told this story as well. And, despite the fact that I would not kiss him again the next day (I already met your tongue and my throat didn’t like it so…) and completely blew his ass off, he managed to find me on FB (without even telling me he was going to!) and has e-mailed me on FB three (count ’em) times.
Even though I have yet to respond. Once.
I did e-mail the Engineer. I also found him on FB (he really is a nice guy – we could go hiking again if I ever get to Alberta). It took me awhile, due to other things I had to do, and no internet, but I got to it.
He took all of, oh, two hours? to respond. And also e-mailed me on FB. Immediately.
So. In closing (finally), I would like to say this:
There are times when the other person is just not that into you. Abso-friggin-lutely. However.
We all do well to remember that there are also time when 1.) the other person is a big fat baby (and doesn’t want to grow a pair and contact you, so they don’t); 2.) the other person doesn’t think you’re that into them (and maybe they’re right); or 3.) it was just some fun, NSA sex. Done.
In the case of #1, not a lot different from if they aren’t into you. As I’ve said before, I like a man with balls, and a chick with proverbial ones. You don’t like me enough or are too insecure to pick up the phone (or FB me – lame as that is – in this day and age, it is easier and easier to be a fucking coward and still contact someone), then I am all set, as well.
In the case of #2, and if you actually are into them – fucking contact them!
If you’re not entirely sure if it’s #1 or #2 – contact them anyway! WTF have you got to lose. If they don’t respond, then you know. But you might as well try (because in this day and age, you can do that and still be a fucking coward) . After all, you actually have a pair – right?
Boys – you don’t get to pretend you’re just not into us. Sure, sometimes you’re not but sometimes? You’re just insecure. Or you don’t think we like you. We might not (even if we did make out).
Well, for fuck’s sake, grow a pair. Please. Texting is not exactly that difficult. If we don’t respond, then you know.
But… final piece of advice? three e-mails is definitely overkill.