Tinder and Blind

When I received the below from a friend I was relieved, because it means I don’t have to write about it. I’m known as a bit of a serial ghoster and the reason is because I’m too much of a coward to tell these guys that I just don’t ‘feel a spark’, because it sounds like such a cop out. The easy way out is to ghost someone- meaning just completely ignore them, don’t reply, don’t acknowledge their existence. It’s mean, cruel, and I would hate it if someone I liked did it to me, but I can’t face someone and let them know I’m just not that into them. It’s better for them to think I’m a bitch than to burn their ego face to face. So guys I’ve ghosted, RIP. Enjoy the below.. 

By Anon Contributor & Ghoster

‘Ghosting’ is terrible isn’t it? Only fuckboys and cold, heartless idiots ghost people, right? I’ll admit I didn’t even know what ghosting what until the author of this blog explained it to me. Since then I’ve read articles on types of ghosting, why people ghost and how to get the ‘power’ back from a ghoster (FYI, that last one is complete crap).
The thing all these ghosting articles had in common was that it presumed the ghost was male.
And then I remembered; I’ve done this. It was a year or two ago, before the term had even been coined.
I started texting and then dating a guy that I’d known from university. We had known each other as friends of friends at Uni and he’d been widely regarded as good looking, a ‘regulation hottie’ to quote Mean Girls. He’d had a long term girlfriend at the time though, and we’re good girls – mostly – so he was off limits.
But he was now single so we dated, we had a lot in common, it was fun…and then I stopped texting him back.

He’d try to arrange a date, and I didn’t answer. He’d send me cute messages asking me about my day, no reply. In the end, he text me, all fake lighthearted, full of unnecessary smilies saying he realised I wasn’t replying. He confessed he really liked me and wanted to   see me again, but if I’d lost interest then ‘no hard feelings’.

Only I knew there were hard feelings. Still I didn’t respond. So, why had I done it? He was lovely, intelligent, caring and attractive…and I didn’t fancy him. The only way I can explain it is that I think Mila Kunis is fit but I don’t want to have sex with her. I hadn’t realised when we first were dating because the concept makes me nervous and so I presumed the butterflies were 50/50. Turns out, they were 100 per cent nerves, and nothing else.

I know I should have told him something polite like we had no chemistry, or I didn’t think we were a good fit, or a total lie like I was emigrating. But I knew he’d either ask awkward questions, try to persuade me otherwise or see right through me. The truth was, I didn’t fancy him and how do you tell someone that without offending them? It’s an ego basher. I knew I’d probably never see him again so I thought it better that he hates me. Maybe ‘closure’ would’ve helped him, maybe I was selfish but next time someone ghosts you or your friend, consider that maybe, just possibly, they thought they were saving your feelings. However misguided. Or, you know, they’re a fuckboy/girl.

By Anon- contributor 

For me and my friends, ‘let’s go out for a quiet drink’ usually turns into ‘let’s get to the bar before the club closes at 3am’. On one of these nights I was approached by a guy who was nice and polite, but just not my type. When these incidents happen, I bring out my alter ego (I give myself a different name, a different job, a bizarre back story).

On this occasion, I drove an ice cream van to pay the bills and lived in a house with my three sisters Lydia, Lilly and Lulu. I felt quite sorry for the poor guy as it seemed as though he genuinely believed me. Thankfully, though, my friends wanted to move on so I managed to get away before he could ask for my number.

As the hours ticked by, the Prosecco flowed, the ‘try not to look too drunk’ selfies were snapped and we managed to avoid getting accidentally elbowed on the dance floor. While sat in a booth, a guy approached me – he was also nice and polite but this one was my type. We spoke for what seemed like hours. He had a decent sense of humour, was very gentlemanly and had great hair. My alter ego remained locked in her box.

The only thing I found odd was that his friends were nowhere to be seen. I asked him if he had come out on his own (praying in my head that he wasn’t a gorgeous weirdo scouring clubs for women). He said that his friends had left just before he spoke to me. Again, slightly strange but I brushed it off and we exchanged numbers.

We sealed the night with a kiss and I headed home in a taxi with friends. I thought it was refreshing that he didn’t ask me to go back with him and he seemed as though he genuinely wanted to take me out on a proper date. My instincts were right as he text me the next morning asking when I was free to meet up. The following weekend we went for a drink. It was going really well – there were no awkward silences, we had a lot in common and we ended up being the last couple in the bar before closing.

As we were leaving, he turned to me and said he had to be honest with me about something. I knew the date was going too well! I stood there expecting the worst – he’s married or has a girlfriend. I was close… he actually has three girlfriends, and they all know about one another. He wanted me to be the fourth. Yes, really. He explained to me that he only has open relationships and that he and his three girlfriends meet up once a fortnight for ‘danger play’ (think Fifty Shades but with more whips). He asked me – with a straight face – if I wanted to be part of his harem. At first I thought he was joking, so I laughed, but he wasn’t. I then politely declined.

So, the moral of my story is that even if your suitor looks the part, you should always keep your alter egos close by! Although thinking about it, maybe his polygamous orgy lifestyle was part of his alter ego…