Wow, did our parents have it easy.  I mean, seriously, they were using carrying pigeons to ask each other on dates.  Well okay, maybe not magical messenger birds, but something called the post office and some sort of land-line device used for talking with a big long cord.  Not too much of a game there, someone either called or they didn’t, and if they did, you answered, set some details, and that was that.  But now…

TEXTING.

This process has become all-consuming and the bane of existence for single life.  When to respond, how to respond, and the all-important debate, emoji or no emoji; there is simply too much to consider, not to mention the friends we have to consult in the process (at least for a woman).  “Oh my gosh, he asked ‘how is your day going?’ what do I say what do I say?!?”  But the very worst part of texting?

THE WAIT.

Now, here’s where you can really mess it up.  Even the most relaxed and levelheaded of personalities can really lose their s**t while waiting for a response (which most likely just says “cool”).  I truly admire those who are able to manage these feelings of chaos internally, with no outward expressions of alarm.  Seriously, major props to you guys – patience is the way to go, and you’re always rewarded because of it.  You either eventually get that response you were waiting for (“cool”), or you get nothing, and have managed to escape the situation with some shred of dignity.

I try to wait.  I really do.  On occasion I even do it successfully, and then jump around like this for a few seconds:

But sadly, I have occasions where I just can’t bear those textpectations any longer.  And that’s when it happens…

THE DOUBLE TEXT.

No one, and I mean NO ONE, wins with the double text.  The instant it says “delivered”, regret seeps into your heart and you feel like you’re going to barf.  You know you can’t take it back, and you pray to God that the person on the other end receives it with grace, and not with repulsion.  You certainly aren’t going to win “the game” looking like an eager beaver, because after all, that’s what texting is all about.  What?  It’s a convenient, simple communication tool you say?  That’s hilarious!

And now, for your reading pleasure, a very, very unfortunate true story of my inner dialogue on one of these such occasions:

Thursday, 4:35 pm:  Alright, so it’s 4:35, perfect timing, work will be winding down and he’ll be thinking about his evening plans.

Thursday, 4:37 pm:  It’s totally fine to text him first, right?  Girl power, woo hoo!  Who doesn’t like a strong, confident woman?  He’s going to be excited to hear from me, because I’m awesome!

Thursday, 4:39 pm:  Ehhhhh.  I don’t know.  What if he’s one of those guys who thinks girls who texts first are too forward.  The chase, and all that, yada yada.  Okay, it’s decided.  Not texting him.  I’ll wait to see if he invites me out.

Thursday, 4:52 pm:  Buttttttt….what if he actually has no plans, and is just waiting to see if I’LL take the first step?  Okay yes, going to text.

Thursday, 4:54 pm:  “Hey!  Any plans tonight?  Thought it might be fun to grab a drink!”

Thursday, 4:55 pm:  Yes!  That was the perfect text!  Casual and cool!  How can he resist?  Hanging out with me PLUS cocktails?  Definitely a good night!

Thursday, 4:59 pm:  Oh boy.  Ohhhhh dear.  He still hasn’t said anything.  He must have read it.  There’s no way he hasn’t read it.  I mean, it’s the end of his day, he’s got to have his phone on him.

Thursday, 5:06 pm:  Maybe he’s in a meeting.  Yeah, that’s it.  His meeting ran late.  You can’t very well look at your phone during a meeting, that would be so irresponsible!  He’s not irresponsible, he’s professional.  I know he’s professional because he was wearing that nice pocket square when I met him at the bar.

Thursday, 5:17 pm:  He doesn’t like me, I knew it.  He probably gave me his number at the bar just so he could move on to the cute girl standing behind me.  Ugh.  This sucks.  I’m re-downloading Tinder.

Thursday, 7:36 pm:  Yeah, look at all these matches!  They all have pictures with tigers or ab-mirror selfies, but that’s okay.  It means they’re worldly and they take care of their bodies.

Thursday, 8:11 pm:  Wow, still can’t believe he hasn’t texted back.  I mean seriously…nothing???  How hard is it to take 15 seconds to respond and say, “sorry, not tonight” or whatever!  There’s totally no excuse.  Whatever, never actually wanted to go out with him anyways.  We had a good time at that bar, but that pocket square was ugly.

Thursday, 8:29 pm:  There’s no way he doesn’t want to get a drink with me, there’s just no way!  He bought me a tequila shot and everything!  Poor guy, he must be swamped at work.  I’m just going to send him one more quick little text, just to show him how supportive I can be.  I mean, working late on a Thursday, it’s almost the weekend!  How cruel!

Thursday, 8:30 pm:  “Poor you, working late?  That’s no fun!  My friends and I are about to grab drinks at this new bar we have a voucher for.  They make their cocktails in old soup cans!”

Thursday, 8:32 pm:  OH GOD.  OH.MY.GOD.  NOOOOOOO!!!!  I double-texted him!!!  I can’t believe I just did that!  Now he’s going to think I’m nuts!  He doesn’t have time for this, he’s busy at work!  Now he’s going to think I’m super un-cool, and he’s got all the texting power!

Thursday, 8:45 pm:  You know what?  Maybe it’s not that bad!  Yeah!  He probably hasn’t even seen the second one yet!  When he’s free, he’ll read them and think “Dang it, bummer I had to work late, she’s awesome and I really would have loved to get a drink with her!” and then he’ll set a date for a different day!

Thursday, 10:49 pm:  Maybe I can find him on Facebook…

Thursday, 11:20 pm:  Ughh, whatever.  He’s not going to text back.  Tinder isn’t so bad right?  Ooo, an elephant selfie!

Friday, 8:07 am:  Response from him: “Hey.  Soup cans, cool.”

Yup.

This is why I’m single.