No Means No

Seriously buddy…did you miss Rape Day in elementary school? When I say “no” it means no. Not “maybe” or “yes” – it means no. End of discussion.

So there’s this guy that I’d been talking to. You know how the story starts. Blah blah blah. Seems like a nice guy. Profile notes how he’s super romantic, long-term oriented, not looking for a hookup, enjoys checking out different bars and restaurants…whoa…it’s like we’re twins. So we chat for a week or two. Talk about making plans to grab coffee or dinner. Schedules keep conflicting…until yesterday morning.

Here we are. 7:18am. He’s hitting me up wanting to stop over on his way to work.

So what do I say?


Sorry, buddy, but I have to be out the door in 12 minutes to catch the train to work. Maybe if you’d tried to line this up last night so I could have been up earlier, but it’s a Thursday morning. I have meetings and conference calls scheduled. Work comes first. No can do.

And just like that, all of a sudden we’re dealing with Cranky McCrankerpants. I get accused of being a flake (rewind…there’s never been an opportunity to flake since we have yet to make plans) because this has apparently happened to him before. Sorry, but this isn’t my problem.

Fast forward to this this morning. He apologizes for acting like a psycho yesterday. Cool. At least you’re aware of the fact. Apology accepted.

I mention that perhaps we should get something on the books for the weekend since I’ll need a break from trying to get six projects cranked out for a Monday morning review. We decide to play it by ear since we’ll both be busy but agree that coffee or brunch Saturday morning sounds great.


Then I get a message this evening asking what I’m up to tonight.

After putting in about 60 hours so far this week (not including Sunday either), all I want to do is come home, order deliver, pop the cork on a bottle of wine, and curl up in sweatpants in my currently sheet-less bed in between two down comforters and relax…with no visitors. Because I’ve been on vacation and subsequently playing catch-up at the office, I’m down to one clean towel, a dishwasher full of dishes that need put away, a counter filled with unopened mail, and an all-around mess of a typically OCD-clean apartment. Needless to say, no visitors allowed.

So naturally…out comes Cranky McCrankerpants, yet again.

Once? Fine. I get it. But two times in 48 hours? No. No, no, no. Total red flag that you’re probably crazy and I might end up in a Mason jar if we hang out.

So of course…I call him out on acting crazy. I explain to him (again) the situation of work, mess, tired, blah blah blah and tell him that – like I mentioned earlier today – I had planned to hang out with him this weekend and was looking forward to it.

Well, well, well…

Apparently the weekend means Friday too. Really? I had no idea. However if I tell you I’ll hang out with you and do coffee or brunch Saturday morning, then that means Saturday morning, not Friday night. But no, of course the buck doesn’t stop there. Once again, I’m called a flake, a game player, and on and on and on. In a nut shell (pun intended)…

ME: I’d love to hang out, but I just walked in the door from work. I need to pick up, make dinner, throw some sheets and towels in the wash, and pop the cork on a bottle of wine. It’s a quiet night in for me.
HIM: That’s okay, I don’t care if it’s messy. We don’t need sheets on your bed anyway. We could throw down a towel. You know you want company.
ME: No really, no company tonight.
HIM: Why not?
ME: Re-read that again. I just explained. Plus I’m tired, I’m hungry, I don’t feel good, and I’m not horny or in the mood to hook up anyway.
HIM: Well if the idea of me coming over doesn’t get you going then that’s too rigid for me anyway. If you don’t want to get together now, let’s just forget tomorrow altogether because you’re clearly not spontaneous enough for me.
ME: Alright then. Have a good one.

Ain’t nobody got time for that.

When I say “No, we are not hanging out tonight” then that means no. While you may have seemed like a nice guy at first, you, like many of the others I’ve met seem to be missing too many screws. So much for “not looking for hookups” and wanting something more. Sorry, buddy, but we won’t be meeting up tonight…or ever for that matter. No, no, no.

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