The phone test

The waitress brought the check and I knew it was time. I had to fake flirt to even get to that point – breakfast with the dude, and he had no idea what was coming. It was imperative that the test was face to face, otherwise it wouldn’t work. I’d honestly been looking forward to the moment for a while. He won’t leave me alone, but he doesn’t know that I had a background check done on him, or that private investigators can be found for really cheap. And when the moment came, it was everything I hoped for.

“Ok, so you told me you want to date, and I just have one request. Yes, we can go back to your place and have sex, but I just need one thing first.”

He looked at me warily. “What’s that?” He was still thinking he was about to get laid at this point, and I watched his face like a hawk.

Show me your phone. One time only, I won’t call or text anyone, I won’t write down or memorize any phone numbers, and if you aren’t seeing anyone else and nothing’s going on – show me your phone.”  I could see the thoughts racing as clearly as if he was speaking them – what’s incriminating on my phone? how do I turn this into her fault? When he realized there was no way out, he got a really ugly expression on his face that told me everything. That mix of sneer and hatred and glaring at me, but you think I’ll still have sex with you???

“Do you agree to never contact me again then?” I asked him.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes, you’re too dishonest for me and I don’t want you in my life.” I’d already gathered my things, and because the first rule of dating an emotional woman is that you should never, ever cheat or lie (which you shouldn’t anyway, just on principle, I guess he missed the memo). Even  though it was uncomfortable, I then took it to another level in an attempt to sear this lesson into his brain. I casually stood up, yelled out “Hey!” So that the whole restaurant looked at me. “Can you please make sure he doesn’t follow me? Thanks.” Then I walked out. I don’t go there, but he does, and I have no problem embarrassing one or both of us if it helps keep him away from me. It was so over the top, but so is this idiot. He followed me out after a couple of moments anyway (probably said “She’s crazy”, or a variation thereof), and tried to stand in front of my car, scrambling for what he could say or do.

After I calmly drove away, I could picture him wearing out the delete button on his phone, because he texted me a few minutes later “Come back, you can see my phone!” After you’ve deleted everything incriminating? Yeah, right. Then it was “Come over so we can fuck, you can see my cock.” Seriously? I blocked the rest of the messages, because when he doesn’t get his way, his messages always degenerate quickly into accusations and everything being my fault. Despite the block on his number, he was still able to leave three stupid voicemails and he sent texts for a few hours that luckily I didn’t have to read.

At least I got to have coffee and breakfast first, even though it was uncomfortable. He can’t tell me too much about his life anymore because I always catch him in lies, or evidence of his cheating, so he doesn’t say much, just stares off into space a lot. Which reinforced my resolve, because the one absolutely essential thing I require in a relationship besides honestly and loyalty, is the ability to talk to each other about anything. If you don’t have that, you have nothing.  Money means nothing, material shit is transitory, but can you meet on a raw and honest level? When you’re old and wrinkly together, and nothing is left of the world where you met, that connection should still be there, strong and sure. The dude will never understand that, or the idea of committing to one person. I can do polyamory, but unless it’s clearly discussed, I don’t share unless I’m there, and holy shit I despise liars.

Now the question is, how long will he stay away from me this time? Will I have to step it up another level? I hope not, but I’m prepared just in case.

Talk to Me – Stevie Nicks
One Minute More – Capital Cities
Young Girls – Bruno Mars


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