I couldn’t wait until the next afternoon, I messaged him in the morning. I’m sure my desperation shot off the screen to him. An entire 24 hours went by and he didn’t answer. I did the usual rationalizations: he was busy at work, he lost his phone, he typed a message to me but forgot to hit send. Though those rationalizations comforted me for short time once the 24 hour mark hit I regained my sanity and with it a truth the everyone knows but few wish to accept when dating: People have their cell phones with them every moment of the day. They are in their hands, their bags, on their desks at work. So unless you are dating someone who climbs mountains out of the service area for days at a time or is a hermit with no phone (neither of which seem date-able) there is no excuse. If they do not message you in a timely manner they did it intentionally. That, or you aren’t important enough to them to even think about.
None of that mattered to me as soon as he texted back. The Dane didn’t bother with an excuse for his lack of timeliness but instead slid right in to witty text banter which had me glued to the phone for the rest of the day, hurling messages at each other once every ten minutes while I tried to focus on my work. We messaged well in to the evening and then, the next morning, silence. Then the next day passed with no response, and the day after that.
And on the third day The Dane resurfaced, no excuses again, and this time with an invitation to his place. I accepted. He had me so anxiously awaiting his messages that the validation of his invitation was enough to turn all of my instincts off, my pantie grabber radars had gone silent, and I went to the door of The Dane that very night.
I walked in and was shocked. For such a meticulously kept man he did not have a meticulously kept apartment. However, all of that was forgotten the moment I saw a wet nose poke out of the doorway. There was a dog. The Dane had a dog. My romantic interest in him spiked again.
I entered the messy apartment, strewn with discarded clothes, dishes, and dog paraphernalia. My attention however was entirely fixed on the new dog in my life, Mia. She and I bonded quickly and soon we were engaged in an epic tug-of-war battle with growling, panting, and articles of messiness flying everywhere. The Dane was surprisingly patient and accepting of my turn of attention. He was busy scooping ice cream and selecting a Netflix movie, laughing at the antics of Mia and I. Out fun was soon curtailed though when he put the two bowls of ice cream on the well littered coffee table and beckoned me over to begin watching his favourite movie.
The rest of the date was nice. We laughed at the movie, I was distracted several times by the dog, and the messiness of the apartment didn’t bother me the way that it should have. When the movie ended our faces became briefly attached but after a little while I pulled away to make my excuses for tomorrow’s early morning training commitments. As I walked away from his apartment I reflected on the evening and the niceties of it but my particular focus was on Mia. Should he and I end up being compatible I was very much looking forward to spending more time with her.
The online world of dating was not supplying me with the distractions that I so required however. The work training was still happening and I was doing my best to keep engaged. The Unintended was still there, in the rooms with me, but I had so far been successful in avoiding any interactions with him. My assumption was that he too was ignoring me, avoiding me, and that was fine by me. A friend of his however, one of the men who had been out with us that fateful night, had started sitting beside me at the training workshops. I was suspicious at first but seriously doubted that The Unintended would share his diabolical actions with anyone, this man couldn’t know. So we were polite, chatted, and had lunch together the past two days. I was thankful to have a companion at the training and be distracted in person in addition to the distractions supplied to me by a screen.