Another Experiment Gone Awry

Me and The BFF.

I mean, let's be honest, having a blog that chronicles my (mis)adventures in dating is a decent amount of baggage. We're talking "You'll be charged an extra $30 to check it cause it won't fit in the overhead bin" kind of baggage.

When I started The Guide two summers ago, I dated (and wrote about) guys who had no clue about it. Then I got back together with J, an avid reader, and that was that. Since he and I broke up last spring, I've almost exclusively dated/been interested in/hung out with guys who are friends-of-friends so they either learned about it through our mutual connection or at least could find it via Facebook. If they were smart enough... (Wasn't always the case.)

So when I met a relative stranger during Halloween - Kenneth the Page - and he friended me after our first date, I decided to make it so he couldn't see my website.

It's not so much that I'm sneaky/shady as it is that I like to perform "controlled experiments." Think of this as running a piece of string across 14th Street.

And, well, the experiment has concluded. And it worked out about as well as that tin can telephone. I mean, if we had been hit by a bus or arrested or something.

You might have read last week this innocent little sentence: "One freakin' day after I blog about the horrible, unforgivable awkwardness that is Facebook Poking, the guy I met on Halloween (Kenneth The Page) who I've gone out with a few times did it. Shudder. Is there no decency left in the world?"

Let's be honest, I've said much worse.

Midnight on Friday I received this text: "So. I was doing some Facebook "research" earlier today, and happened to come across a certain blog. Just wanted to say ... F*CK YOU!"

An hour later: "What... No response after I call you out for calling me out defenselessly in a public forum?"

Two hours later: "So, again, you have no issue publicly insulting me, but won't admit or respond to your actions... Nice."

The next morning, after I woke up, I apologized for blind-siding him with the blog and for hurting his feelings. I did note, however, that poking is awkward and a personal pet peeve. Or, you know, a universal pet peeve.

Clearly IAAB, but drunken, aggressive texts in the middle of the night? No thanks.

And another one bites the dust.