Text Etiquette; or, the pandora's box of nightmarish strategy games.

Borrowed from this wonderful post.

Over Christmas, between the leggings-ripping amount of food, the mind-boggingly complicated board games and the hallucination-inducing amount of alcohol, my mind has flitted back occasionally to my current situation with Ben. Read all about it here. In a nutshell, he's gone AWOL. MIA. Behind Enemy Lines. Vanished.

This is not a unique situation. Plenty of people, it would seem, suddenly stop texting/replying to the texts of someone they're dating. This is now the second time it's happened to me. (Remember Spencer?) Putting aside the horrendously cowardly (not to mention downright upsetting) act of simply deciding to ignore somebody, it throws up a new set of challenges - when to text, what to say, or rather, perhaps, when not to text.

Putting aside the obvious faux-pas' of texting someone when you're drunk, (especially if they're losing interest... I have done this in the past...) the early stages of dating someone is always fraught with 'should I text them now? When did I last text them? What should I say? 1 kiss or 2? Big Kiss (X) or little kiss (x)?'* or even, if you've managed to get a little conversation going, 'When should I reply? Straight away or leave it a few hours? Will I look desperate if I reply straight away? Will I seem like I'm not bothered if I wait til tomorrow?' It's a bloody nightmare, and we've only got ourselves to blame.

*Don't get me started on the use of text speak/grammar/punctuation in text messages. The days of limited credit, therefore having to fit everything u wan 2 say in a msg so u nly spnd 10p are well and truly over. We've all got unlimited texts now, right? If it means your message is two messages long to me, because you're using your words properly, good for you. Any guy that texts like a 14 year old girl to me is instantly canned, unless they have redeeming features such as a private yacht. Harsh. Fair.

Now, being a child of the 80's, I don't remember a time when there was only one telephone to a whole street (or some such nonsense that my mum spouts) and 'If you wanted to speak to a lad, you had to pick up t'ruddy telephone and call him, and just be lucky that your sister tisn't listenin' in' (my mum isn't northern, but it adds to comic effect I feel.) But I suspect that actually, this mightn't have been such a bad thing. Do you remember phone calls? Calling your friends and loved ones, hearing their voice? Such a novelty now! The advent of texting (and twitter, email, this all applies) means that while it's convenient to reply whenever you want, in the exact way you want, you get the opportunity, nay, the advantage, of swinging the conversation, ergo the power in the relationship, your way. Like a guy, but don't want to seem too keen? Don't worry about your spluttery phone voice or urge to ramble about your guinea pig during a live conversation - just expertly carve yourself a new identity through the power of the electronically-sent written word. 'Why yes, my grammar and spelling is excellent. No, I haven't replied to you for several days. It's just I'm so busy with my wonderfully busy life, which doesn't involve any rodents, that I forgot about you. Dinner tomorrow? Perfect. I'm not even using text speak. It's so 2003. See you then, [little kiss].'

You've got hours and hours to come up with a witty and flirtatious reply to that cheeky little text he sent this morning. But you weren't using those hours panicking about what to write back, oh no, you were running errands, baking, doing your nails, driving a rally car, and simply 'forgot' to check your phone, or so you imply. Never mind that you spent your entire lunch hour debating the use of the smiley face he put, with your colleagues. 'He might just be smiling because he likes you', 'But who uses smilies anymore! It shows he must be really immature!', 'No, I think it's a sarcastic, pitying smile, look at the way he's written it, just after asking if you have any plans, bet he's saying that you're bound not to have plans, poor you, maybe I'll relieve your loneliness, fake smilie :)' 'Maybe he just doesn't know how to end his message, a smiley is a nice thing to do,' 'No it isn't, shut up Janet.'

And so on.

Texting is dangerous, and not very conducive to a new relationship. We also get told conflicting advice all the time. One of my good friends is a champion of the 'treat 'em mean keep 'em keen' approach - never texts after the first date, and always waits at least 24 hours before replying. Another friend favours the honesty method - reply when you want, text him when you feel like it. Not too much, but don't be a bitch about it.

Both of these methods have their advantages. Playing the game, as it were, keeps them on their toes, and yes, the cliche is true, if you act a bit uninterested, it will probably keep them interested. I've done a scientific evaluation* of my male friends and they all agree, in the early stages, they get annoyed with girls who are too willing/available.  BUT. If you back off too much, a) it's exhausting and b) they will probably think that you actually don't like them all too much, and will move on.

*Conducted in my local pub using the scientific method of 'banter'.

Being yourself, or rather, texting back soon-ish, when you actually want to, can work well because they see that you do like them, and it just makes the whole damn thing so much easier. However, again, if you start getting too familiar over text, texting every day, people get claustrophobic and pull the plug.

What to do? It's a nightmare. I bloody hate it. Why can't everyone just text people when they want to, be honest, and for god's sake a phone call every so often won't hurt. Talking to people is nice. Remember that nice voice they had on your date? You can hear it again if you call them! Have a little conversation, away from the Qwerty keyboard. It's great. A bit scary, but great. Same rules apply though, don't keep calling every day. One of my housemates is seeing a girl who used to call him up to randomly talk about something she just saw, etc. This is lovely, if you're actually together. If you've been on 2 dates, not so much. It's all about the boundaries - unfortunately, they constantly shift and change, and people are very different. Working that out is half the fun.

So my current problem, with Ben, is that after our (excellent) second date, I have text him twice, to no avail. Between dates 1 and 2 we texted upwards of 30 messages to each other (so my phone tells me). We had some good little conversations. I feel I had the right balance of texting back soon-ish, and waiting a day or so. At the end of Date number 2, he said, I quote, 'we should text more.' The next day, 24 hours after our date (again, a good amount of time, I feel) I asked him what he was doing for friday night. No reply. Wednesday, so 6 days after our date (again, playing by the rules here, no crazy stalking) I text again, hinting about meeting up again. Zip. Silence. The cold, agonising, deathly march of silence.

I'm still trying to work out what it all means. It's very possible he simply doesn't like me that much, but that means that not only have I massively read his signals wrong (the kissing! All of the kissing!), he's also a coward for not replying and saying something, anything. Even a simple, I'm not sure where this is going, or, I've met someone else, will suffice. Nothing. He also may have lost his phone - but he could contact me on tastebuds, where we met, and drop me a message. He's logged in since. (It tells you.) No message. I also (slight stalker here but blame technology again...) found him on facebook, since I know his surname, just to check... well, honestly, just to check there were no condolence messages on there that might hint he's been in some kind of terrible life-threatening accident. Luckily, thankfully, he seems fine. I didn't add him 'cos I'm starting to get the hint, but interestingly, and weirdly, we have a mutual friend. It's tempting to coax his backstory out of her. I WON'T. But damn you, technology, for being so frustrating.

Honestly, I think I'm just going to have to let this one go. It saddens me no end. If our dates were a bit 'meh' then I wouldn't be so bothered - I've phased many people out who I liked but felt no real connection to. But this felt... different. He seemed more into me than I did to him, and I was quite into him. I'm very very surprised this has happened, if I'm honest. Between dates 1 and 2 he checked THREE TIMES to make sure date number 2 was on. THREE. So who knows. Who bloody knows. I won't text again. Probably.

What's your stance on the Great Text Debate? Are you a Treat 'Em Mean, Keep 'Em Keen-er? Do you hate all technology and prefer the good ol' fashioned love letter? Have you been on the end of a crazy text stalker? Have YOU committed the cardinal sin of text-shunning somebody? Do tell. We're all friends here.

A second Very Good Date; And the ensuing silence.

After my first date with Ben, which went very well indeed, a clash of schedules (Christmas is a busy time!) meant that we couldn't have our second date until exactly 2 weeks after the first. We had been texting quite a bit in between though, so the gap didn't feel like it was a problem.

We met at Embankment and walked over the Hungerford bridge (totes pretty, I love the Thames at night) to the southbank, and discovered that the German market was on. Amazing. We had a little wander down looking at all the pretties (our dates keep seeming to have a German theme - strange) and had some mulled wine as we walked, which was needed because it was absolutely freezing.

I was a bit worried (I worry too much, evidently) that the first date may have been a fluke somehow – that we had so much to talk about because we were both a bit nervous, and maybe the second date just wouldn’t live up to it. Or that we’d talked about everything and we’d be sitting in silence. However, we were chatting away in no time and everything felt just as comfortable and natural as before. Phew!

I was also a bit worried that maybe between the first and second date, I’d built him up a bit too much in my head and when I’d meet him for the second time, all magic and attraction would be gone. Luckily, this was not the case. Still as cute as ever, still had loads to talk about, lots in common, and absolutely one of, if not THE nicest guys I have dated in 2011. Ending this year on a high, definitely.

Eventually we headed down to Strada (one of my fave places to eat around that area) and after a little wait for a table, headed in. So far, so good. I had picked the location (Southbank at this time of year is always a failsafe) so only fair I pick the restaurant I suppose. Dinner was lovely, had quite a bit of wine, chatting away as comfortably as last time - the first date was definitely not a fluke.

We talked about all manner of things, as you do – even touched on the subject of my ex. Now. I don’t usually like talking about Robert (or Edward, or any of them really) with guys, especially ones I really like. But he asked me why I went to the Uni that I did, so, as I’m an honest (sometimes too much so) person, I just said the truth – that I didn’t get into my first choice, and my second choice was the one that Robert was going to anyway, so I put it, and got accepted. I touched briefly on how/when we broke up, the cheating, but honestly didn’t want to talk about it too much. He seemed fine with it though, didn’t physically recoil anyway, and was talking to me about it. I also talked about that period of my life in general, and some bad things that happened; but he actually asked me questions about it etc, so it was fine. It was only afterwards that I slightly regretted talking about it (you never really want to talk about things like that with your date do you?) but I suppose the wine just got me talking. That and I felt so comfortable around him that I guess I wanted to open up. He seemed genuinely interested and cared about what I was talking about though so I’m pretty sure he wasn’t weirded out.

In fact, he didn’t scarper straight after dinner, he asked if I wanted to get a drink somewhere else so we headed to another bar until closing time, which was nice. It was about 11.30 and I had work the next day so realised I should probably head home! We walked along the Southbank back to London Bridge (further than we thought!) in the wind and the rain but despite getting a bit rained on it was lovely – and he stopped to kiss me a few times which was all very romantic and wonderful - things that just don't happen to me.


Eventually got back to the tube and said our goodbyes – again with several kisses, tee hee – where we realised we probably wouldn’t see each other until the week between Christmas and New Year at the earliest,  as he was going home a few days later. So agreed we should do something then, after I mentioned that I’d be back in London around then. After we realised it would be a while before we would see each other, he said ‘We should definitely text more, I feel that we don’t text enough!’ Which, coming from a guy (sorry guys) is nothing short of miraculous! Amazing. In my opinion, we were actually texting a fair bit anyway, but he obvs wants to up the game. This I fine. This is better than fine.

So we parted ways, I was drunk and happy (hooray) and went home to bed. The next day was Friday, so I text him that evening (as he said we should text more!) to ask him what he was up to, and say what I was doing. Just a general chit chat casual message. Normal. One kiss. Good punctuation. All that.

What happened next? Nothing. Abso-bloody-lutely nothing.

It’s now Thursday (1 week since the date) and I haven’t heard anything from him AT ALL. What’s the deal? If he hadn’t have said about the whole texting-more thing then I wouldn’t be too bothered (although still, no contact at all?) but he specifically said, let’s text. Let’s text more. Let’s do more of the texting thing.

So, I debated a long time over whether to text again – after all, he was busy that weekend, going home, seeing friends, he may have forgotten to reply. Erring on the side of optimism, I decided to text one last time, yesterday afternoon. My message was essentially, Hey, you’ve been a bit quiet, are you enjoying being at home? I’ve got my Christmas Party tonight, hurrah, let’s try and meet on the so and so of December if you’re in London?

Still nothing.

So. He’s either lost his phone and can't contact me (unlikely, facebook exists), has been in a terrible accident (hopefully not…), or evidently hates me. I can’t fathom a reason why he’s suddenly ended all contact otherwise.

Thoughts/opinions would be gratefully received. I really like this guy and would love to see him again but perhaps it’s over before it even began…

Possibly the greatest first date of all time.

At least I actually wore shoes.

Last week, I got a message on Tastebuds. This isn't a rare event, I get them a lot. This one however, was normal. No weird quips, gags or strange questions. Just a hello, how are you, fancy going for a coffee? Also, the guy was hot. And I mean, I actually sat up in my chair and said 'Well hello!' out loud, hot. This, does not normally happen.

I replied straight away. Of course. We had a few back and forth messages over the space of a couple of hours, seemed to have a lot of things in common, swapped numbers, and arranged a date. For the following Thursday. So far... so ridiculously, incredibly easy. Did I mention he was hot? He was hot. I couldn't actually believe my luck. We shall call him Ben. He suggested a German bar near London Bridge, unless I fancied something else. No, I love the Germans, let's do that. Perfect; he had suggested a place thus taking control, but also left it open in case I protested. Tick.

Thursday came. It was pouring it down. I was wearing stupid brogues with a lace panel in them (like so) so I had wet feet by the time it came to the date. (I didn't reveal I had damp feet throughout the date. I've learned this is not acceptable first date talk.) We met at London Bridge station, and when I finally spotted him over the mass of umbrellas, he was giving a foreign couple detailed instructions on how to use the Jubilee line. Waiting patiently to say hello, my first thought was not 'Hurry up it's raining', it was 'Oh look at him being all polite and helpful, that's so lovely, <3 <3' and other teenage thoughts. Seriously.

Said foreign couple scampered off and we said hello. Did I tell you he was hot? Hot IRL too. Even avec umbrella. We walked down Borough High St and came to the destination, which I'd never even heard of - but it was great. A barely-noticeable door leads down into what is essentially an underground, bright, jolly, German themed pub. Wooden benches, german beer, barmen in lederhosen, the lot. I have no idea what it's called though, I was too busy staring at Ben's wonderful face talking animatedly about bands we both like. Turns out pretty much every festival I've been to, he was there. We like all the same music. Talked about work, annoying housemates, snowboarding, cancer (note to self, stop talking about cancer on first dates, FFS), films, Uni, the woes of not being at Uni anymore, many other things. He bought the drinks, we drank them, before I knew it, it was 9.30. Literally been chatting for hours and didn't even realise. He suggested moving on to somewhere else, so we did. I did not want to go home, whatsoever. Also, side note, why do people suggest moving on? It's not a pubcrawl. I have no problem with it, I was just cosy, and frankly didn't want to go out in the rain. Interesting.

We went on to some sort of chain pub down the road, had another drink (I bought this one, only fair) and carried on. Genuinely did not feel like a first date, we had so much to talk about. I remember somehow getting on to the subject of best ever Playstation games and talking about FF7 for a while. He seemed staggered I could converse on such geeky topics. If only he knew. Amazing. Threw in a bit of Metal Gear Solid for luck too. (Both equal, best ever Playstation games in my opinion.)

Basically, the date could not have gone better, given my past luck in first dates through Tastebuds. He walked me back to the station, and there was kissing. Oh yes. And this time, not strange, first date awkward kissing, but a proper, decent, I think I just died a bit inside kiss. Not too intense, but there was effort there. Essentially a very good first kiss. I was a bit giddy. This could also be due to the fact that I was indecently drunk - 3 large glasses of red wine on no dinner. He gets a slight minus point for getting me drunk. Actually, no, he doesn't.

We parted and I half sauntered/stumbled/glided on to my train, no doubt with the most sly, drunkard grin on my face. Best. Date. Evah.

The issue next, of course, was if/when to text, and if there was to be a second date. There MUST be. There's no way he could not have also felt we really clicked. I text him the very next day (Dangerous! But it had to be done) and said I had a lovely time, etc, let's do it again. And he replied. And agreed. Said we 'gelled'. Yes. Yes we did hot man.

I left it over the weekend, then realised on monday that the only free night I had for 8 solid days (blame Christmas party season, and unfortunately a funeral) was the very next day. Do I text again requesting a drink that soon?! I didn't want to let it slide. So I did.

And he bloody didn't reply for about 12 hours. MASSIVE PARANOIA.

Turns out he left his phone at home. Gah. But he couldn't do that night anyway, so we've rearranged, for exactly a fortnight since the first date. I shall inform in due course. I'm feeling good about this one (can you tell?) and super worried I will somehow balls it up. We shall see. Argh.