Love Labor's Lost

volumes of mis-adventures

Texting, don’t be deceived it is a fine art.

There is definitely such a thing as too much. Also, one should take a hint. It’s one thing to text ad nauseum on a weekend, but on a weekday, when the majority of the world has work, or at least a schedule to keep to, endless text messages of odysseatic proportions create an increasing level of disinterest. I bumped into a cute, six foot something, blue eyed,  male, with a gymnasts’ build last week. Atop his fawningly beautiful physique, a vernacular that could make an English major swoon, was all that left his lovely lips. Unfortunately, all those beautiful qualities could not disguise the overzealous need for attention less than a week after our first encounter.  Thirty texts in a short half hour, 26 of them being one sided (close to 400 in just a few days—inducing stressful shock for a gal without unlimited texting, to be sure!), might have hinted to the aforementioned party to back off and give a girl some space. Alas, his thumbs continued to tap away, and I’m sure his send key was as exhausted as I became turned off. All this, culminated in texts at 8am this morning that sealed my judgment in the book of dating faux pas.

T: Persistence may perhaps be my downfall in this, but please pardon or dissuade me if you can manage. With that said I believe all things happen for a reason and if you don’t carpe diem, there may not be another shot in store. If at all possible I would love you to keep that in mind when you find the time to catch your breath on the path you’re traveling. That’s all I got and I’ll hold my words now. Heh

Me: To be quite frank, your endless texting, gives me the impression that you’re too much work. I am a busy gal, and don’t have countless hours to devote to my phone. Take care, T.

I myself, thought that was fairly final, but my little Homer needed to conclude his epic prose.

T: Impressions are for those too wary to take off their armor. All is well my social butterfly, that is what I needed to hear. You take care also. Even the most respectable spiders must pause to let their beauty and productivity do the work for them as at it was intended to be! Auf wiedersehen.

I wish things were a bit different, but sometimes when you realize that your time is better spent elsewhere, and that feeling desire to find out what happens next deteriorates into annoyance or indifference, you might as well close the book before it’s over.

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