“I just viewed her Instagram story, so she now clearly knows what my intentions are,” my overly cocky guy friend said as he sat across from me at lunch, talking about the latest girl that he was pursuing.
“What the fuck? Do you know how many other guys would have viewed her Instagram story?” I said back in disbelief?
“Yeah, but it’s me, I don’t know… it’s different. This is the reason that you’re still single.” I dramatically rolled my eyes as hard as I could, and contemplated why I was friends with the obviously less intelligent sex.
Whatever happened to the romantic days of a “WYD” text at 2am, or a classic followup “you up?” booty call after viewing your Instagram story? Now I don’t want to sound like one of those whiny bitches who reposts a long Tumblr rant about “whatever happened to getting a phone call asking you on a date, and chivalry, and not having sex on the first date.” Blah blah blah.
Yep. Times have changed. Get used to it. Modern romance may now being asked to “Netflix and chill.” But, to be honest, talking on the phone with a guy that you barely know, seems like a turnoff, and your future husband is probably active as fuck swiping left right now, looking for his modern-day Tinderella. Whining about the change in the dating scene definitely makes you less likely to even get the elusive “WYD” text, leaving you to torture the rest of us with your tedious, repetitive social media posts about your sad, sad, life.
However there’s only so much change that a girl can take. Sure, we’ve accepted the fact that we’re not getting courted anymore (which, in my opinion, does sound like a hellish process to be put through). We’ve even rejoiced in the fact that we can now do what we please, and have sex on the first day if we want to, goddamit. But it’s not too much to ask for some basic level of human interaction with the person that you like.
I have to admit, I’ve fallen prey to acting like a fuckboy, and engaging in these new, borderline-sociopathic “rules” of dating. Hell, I’ve been friendlier to the grocery store cashier that I’m buying wine, tampon and ice cream from at 1am than I am to a guy I’ve actually been interested in. But let’s never forget that deep, deep down, at heart, I am a crazy fucking bitch. No matter how much I ignore you, leave you on read and see liking an Instagram photo as a “bold” flirtatious move, there is some part of me that wants to still send a guy ten text messages in a row (with approximately half of them being in all-caps, and the other half saying some variation of “you ain’t shit”).
Trust me when I say this, and I’m sure you already know, that I’m not the only crazy bitch out there. I’m not the only girl who dies a little inside every time she is forced to read into every like, retweet or fucking view. Eventually, your girl is going to break. One day that “chill” girl who was perfectly fine with a dating like that consisted of a guy liking exactly every third Instagram photo she posts, is going to snap, and all hell is going to break loose. You’ll be sorry when you one day wake up to thirty phone calls, and three voicemails of her drunkenly slurring “fuck you, I’m coming to your house.”
Boys, do us all a favor: stop being lazy pieces of shit, get your act together, and at least bring back Netflix and chill..
Nice Move137
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crazygirlfriend
Hiding from my mother and standards, both of whom would disown me if they heard most of these stories. Aspiring law school student, with a chihuahua named Bruiser and a head of unnatural blonde hair. Email me your "crazy" stories or any mixed drink recipes that taste like juice, but have copious amounts of vodka in them at crazygirlfriend.tsm@gmail.com Watch the bitch behind these stories at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vrp2D9h3SMk&t=67s
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