Boys do not know on which side their bread is buttered

I recently got asked out on a date.

Yay! You might be thinking. Yay! I was thinking. For someone such as I, possibly slightly dumpier than the average girl, and with less self-confidence than is ultimately desirable, you can imagine the thrill that ran through me when I saw the boy’s genuine shyness and his shaking hands.

“Er…I was just wondering…um…if perhaps you’d like to go for coffee sometime?”

I almost jumped down his throat with my yes, I was so nervous for him myself.

“Oh! Great!” he enthused.

Awkward silence.

“I’ll give you my number then, shall I?” I ventured.

“Yes! That’s great!” he said, somewhat relieved.

So I gave the poor boy my number, somewhat bemused through the awkwardness at his shaking hands. How absurdly sweet!

I did not have to wait long for him to text me; it happened within the hour. He was very cordial and very sweet, even if he did insist on spelling “definitely” as “defiantly”.

We set a day for the grand event, and on the day, I was an excited ball of nerves. However, no word came, so eventually I texted him and asked what was going on.
I received a text hours later saying that he had to go out of town, dreadfully sorry, etc.

So: I decided to give him one more go. Because, of course, he was pretty cute, even if he couldn’t spell definitely (he’d spelt it wrong twice at this point).

So we texted back and forth for a while, and I visited him at his work a couple of times, and everything was pleasant except for a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that perhaps interest had waned on his part a little. This proved to be no mean powers of deduction.

It all came to a head when I went in one day and was incredibly sweet, incredibly nice, and had dressed and made-up myself exceedingly well. We exchanged pleasantries but there was a haunted look in his eye. I received a text approximately fifteen minutes after leaving the shop:

"Hey, nice to see you today, you looked really amazing. So I thought that I should let you know that a little while ago I bumped into my ex and we’ve been hanging out a bit so I don’t think it’s fair on either of you if you and I meet up at the moment. I need to sort my shit out, but I’ll defiantly keep your number and maybe we can catch up some time in the future!”

The third “defiantly” was TOO much. Regardless of ex-girlfriends, this guy was never going to see my undergarments, nor anything beyond. I was also never going to be ANYONE’S backup plan.

I text back, rather coolly, “My, how awkward for you. Well you know what they say about exes – they are exes for a reason! Good luck with that though!”

And then I never heard from him again.

I have never been so baffled in my life: Surely this was not the shaking, contrite creature that had stood before me just two weeks before, humbly requesting my number? Now he was "in demand" as such, with girls just lapping at his feet, ready for the taking!

And this, my dear friends, is why you should never be too eager. Also: This could just be my opinion, but: Bad spelling/grammar = bad lay. Just sayin'. Go prove me wrong.