Luke Just Came by to Defrag My Hard Drive

Yes, the title of this entry comes from a first season episode of “The O.C.” I won’t tell if you won’t! But if you get the significance of it . . . I’ll be your best friend. *G*I’m not one who dabbles much in the “casual dating” circles. I rarely go out on dates with people I’ve just met, and I don’t make out or sleep with people I don’t know. That’s not to say that I think there’s anything wrong with those actions, and I certainly don’t judge the people I know who choose to be less discriminatory with their affections, but I know by now that it’s not a part of my personality. I used to be like that when I was younger; I felt that I had to sample everyone who came my way so as not to miss out on anything. From that, I learned more about the sort of people that I’m interested in, and I now feel that I’ve earned the right to be choosy.

That’s why it was unusual for me last fall when I agreed to go out with a guy I met on OKCupid. I’ve met people online before of course, but never until having lengthy discussions and making sure that the other person and I had become friends. For some reason I can’t explain, I exchanged telephone numbers with this guy after just two emails, and we only spoke on the telephone for a few minutes before agreeing to meet one night. Just like I said in September, I tried really hard not to like him. I couldn’t help but like him though; he’s quite charming. So I agreed to go out with him a second time, and after the second time I agreed to go out with him a third time. And then after the third date, which was in October, I decided that while I certainly liked him well enough, there wasn’t enough of anything there for it to make sense to continue to see each other. And because I’m a wishy-washy person who doesn’t “date,” I never called him to tell him that — but then, he never called me either. To me, that was a good sign, because how often does it happen that two people are on the same page in regards to not wanting to date each other? To tell you the truth, I had kind of forgotten all about him.

So, cut to Sunday night — Monday morning, actually — at 12:30 AM. I’m in bed, happily dozing and about to fall asleep with no trouble. And then my telephone rings, and that’s right, it’s that guy from October. No, I didn’t answer it. I just let it ring and ring and eventually go through to voicemail. I kept my eye on the phone to see if he would leave a message, but he didn’t. Ten minutes later, he called again. I assumed that he had changed his mind and would leave a message that time, but he didn’t. And then my brain turned on and I was up until 6:00AM. (I wake up at 6:30AM. That was a fun day at work.)

I don’t know what that means. Like I said, I don’t date. I don’t know what it means when a guy you haven’t spoken to in months calls you in the middle of the night. Based on what I’ve learned from movies and television it means only one thing: booty call. I’ve never experienced that for real though (I have had actual boyfriends call and beg me to come over in the middle of the night — but that, while it may in fact be calling for booty, is not a “booty call.”) So I asked my CarrieBradshawesque co-worker on Monday and she confirmed that yes, this is what a midnight call from a boy you once dated means.

This upsets me. I don’t know why, but it does. I’m not a “booty call” kind of girl. Again — not because of any moral issue, but because it’s just not something that suits me. I’m not spontaneous. I’m not casual. I’m disturbingly intense and generally serious, and I don’t have room in my life for people who can’t offer me more than one thing. That is to say, I don’t want to spend time with someone who can offer me sex but no love, nor do I care to be with someone who can offer me love but no sex. In fact, there’s not even room in my life for someone who can offer me love and sex if he can’t throw in a healthy dose of friendship too. I demand perfection and I won’t settle for anything less.

Anyway, he called me again on Tuesday night, this time about ten minutes before midnight. The first time, no voicemail, but this time when he called back a few minutes later he did leave a message. He said that he was heading to a local bar and would be there for the next couple of hours, and said that if I wanted to I could meet him there. But I was half asleep by that point and wasn’t about to let him ruin another night for me, so . . . yes. I ignored him. I’m not saying that’s the right thing to do, but it’s what I did. I’m not good at confrontation. I’m sure that eventually he’ll manage to track me down whether it’s on the phone or on the internet or whatever, and eventually I’ll have to tell him that I can’t waste my time on people I’m never going to be able to love. Only I’ll try to be a little nicer than that.