Well, well, well—hello JB.
He sure is a looker, and as a bonus, he’s actually filled out a biography, which is more than most guys have done.
I get excited.
Not going to lie—this one has potential. And wow, he’s pretty darn cute—so attractive I feel that familiar flutter deep in my belly. Shoulders give a tiny shudder as I bite down on my bottom lip with a grin.
JB wants to chat.
My index finger hovers over his profile—over that green dot he wants me to press down on so we can talk—and a sound carries up my throat.
“Guh!” I squeak out as I tap, sealing my fate. Connecting with JB, opening the door to opportunity.
It takes no time at all before he’s replying, sending me a cool, Hey Blue. Quick—tell me what you ate for breakfast.
That’s an easy one.
Me: As soon as I wake up, I’m starving. This morning I made myself an omelet [Please note: the pan is still sitting on the stove]
I think for a second then shoot him back another message: Quick—what’s your strangest habit?
I don’t think I have one. But, in the spirit of the conversation, I pull something out of my ass, knowing it’s inevitably going to come up in this conversation.
It takes JB much longer to reply than it took me, and I impatiently wonder what’s taking him so long.
JB: I’d have to say my strangest habit is…I put ketchup on everything? Is that weird?
Me: Not at all, try again. Get really weird.
JB: All right, but you can’t repeat this to anyone and you can’t make fun of me for it.
Me: Go. Your secret is safe with me—I don’t even know you.
JB: Here goes nothing then—I have a troll doll in my gym bag and rub it for good luck.
I can hardly not laugh at that. Seriously. I’ve heard athletes are superstitious, but don’t they usually just wear the same socks to practice and jump up and down five times in the same spot? Maybe utter the same curse word before walking onto the field? Slap their bro on the ass?
I have no clue—but a troll doll?
Me: What color is its hair?
JB: Yellow.
Me: School colors?
JB: Exactly.
Me: That makes sense I guess. I don’t have any strange habits—not like that one. Sometimes when I’m pissed at my mom, I step on cracks in the sidewalk ;) But that’s not a habit, that’s just me being spiteful. **angel emoji**
JB: LOLOLOL
Me: I would never tell her that of course. She’d be so mad, considering she’s always complaining about her bad back.
JB: LOLOLOL
He’s laughing at me again, which I take as a good sign. I wouldn’t say I’m stand-up comedian funny, but I do like to think I have a great sense of humor, and I’d like my boyfriend to appreciate it.
And laugh at me.
With me.
JB: Favorite filter to use on your photos?
Me: NO FILTER. I especially cannot stand the dog ear/tongue filter. WHY DO GIRLS USE THAT?
JB: No idea. I’ve been on enough dates to know that the girl showing up looks nothing like her puppy alter ego…
Me: That bad, eh?
JB: I mean…for the most part, people don’t look how you expect them to look based on their pictures.
Me: Sounds like you have plenty of experience.
JB: I’m not a serial dater or anything, but after two or three dates show up and they’re barely recognizable, it tends to get…
Me: Old?
JB: Yeah, kind of.
He fires off another quick message: What about you?
Me: I haven’t been on any dates yet, but I expect that most guys will look like themselves since most guys don’t use filters
Me: And can I just say—guys should NOT be taking selfies in the first place. It’s so weird!
JB: Really? Girls think it’s weird when dudes take selfies?
Me: I have no idea what other girls think, but I personally think it looks bizarre. A poll definitely needs to be taken about this topic.
JB: Noted. I will take your word for it and will never take a selfie.
Me: The women of the world thank you.
JB: At your service **takes a deep bow**
Me: Are you always a gentleman?
JB: Yes? No. LOL
Me: Lol only when you’re trying?
JB: If I’m being honest, I have to work at it. I probably spend way too much time with guys. Full disclosure: it’s something my ex-girlfriend used to complain about.
Ugh, an ex-girlfriend. And he’s already bringing her up? Red flag.
I tread lightly, not really wanting to talk about it yet feeling the need to acknowledge it.
Me: How long were you together?
JB: Let me think for a second. Um. Just over a year?
He’s not sure? Typical guy.
Me: When did you break up?
Jesus, why am I asking? It’s not like I really care. Still. The time frame between relationships can say a lot about a person. It will tell me if he’s a relationship jumper, AKA always needs to be in one. It’ll also tell me if he’s looking for a rebound, even though he says he’s looking for something long-term.
JB: It’s been about three months.
Hmm.
Questionable, but not terrible. I guess time will tell. Then, because I cannot help myself, I venture to ask,
Me: Who broke up with who?
A few minutes go by before JB’s conversation bubbles pop up on my screen.
JB: She broke up with me.
Ouch. At least he’s honest. For once, I resist the urge to ask the question niggling in my brain: Do you know why she broke up with you?
Tempting—so, so tempting.
Me: Ah, I see.
JB: Yeah.
Although I really don’t see, because I may never know why she dumped him after a little over a year. Did he cheat on her? Did she cheat on him? Was he a jerk? Was she too selfish? Did they fight all the time?
I’m sure he’d give me a million excuses as to the reason why, so I don’t bother asking. There are two sides to every story, and if he and I keep talking, I can ask him to give me his side in person.
I must be taking too long to message him again because my phone dings and it’s him, asking, Hey Sky, you still there?
Me: I’m here. Sorry.
JB: What have you been up to tonight?
Me: I was hanging out with friends. They’re the ones who convinced me to sign up for this dumb app. No offense.
JB: None taken. It is kind of dumb.
Me: Really? You think so?
JB: Mostly yes. I haven’t had any luck. You would be surprised how many girls just want to hook up.
Me: And you don’t?
His pause is long enough for me to know he’s debating about his reply, long enough for me to know he doesn’t want to offend me by being honest.
JB: I didn’t say that LOL
Yeah, that’s what I thought.
JB: I’m just being honest.
Me: It’s the best policy!
JB: But judging you solely on your pictures, you don’t look like the kind of girl who is into hook-ups.
Me: What else can you tell about me judging solely on my pictures?
JB: Well, let me think for a second. Let me go STARE.
It takes him an entire minute. I guess he’s really thinking it through.
JB: Okay. I bet you like going out with your friends, but you don’t like being bothered by guys. You’re there with them, not to get picked up. You hate cheesy pick-up lines.
Me: Go on…