The Houdini
We've all had experiences with the one who just disappears. Snap. They're gone. I had the (unenjoyable) pleasure of meeting my first fader this past summer at a wedding with my family.
I had no expectations that I would meet anyone, and with an open bar and some dance music my sister and I found ourselves busting some sweet moves on the dance floor. A stereotypical dance circle ensued with the wedding guests strutting their stuff and sashaying in all kinds of ways. Then four guys tried to pull us into the dance circle. Fairly inebriated, I jump into the center, shake my ass, pivot, jump, and just lose it as these dudes hollered and cheered. With a goofy drunk smile on my face after I bowed out of the circle, this guy approached me and we started chatting. I just assumed he was complimenting me on that killer performance, and I indulged his attempts at picking me up with multiple lines and his trying to lean in and make out with me (which I did not do because I was at a wedding with my parents). He was attractive and it turned out that he also lived in the same city, but I had to stifle a laugh when he told me he lived in a neighborhood known for yuppy prepster lacrosse boys. Perhaps that should have been the warning sign.
In my haze between wedding cake, whiskey, and doing the twist with my dad, I genuinely forgot about him. At some point during the night he found me again, asked me out, and got my number. The next morning I woke up to several texts from this guy that read, "Come have drink," "Your dad bought me a beer," "We are going to a farm, come out." Clearly, he seemed interested. We text bantered that week, agreeing to meet for a drink, which led to two other dates. Everything seemed to be going well. We were exchanging about a text a day, spending the night, etc. Then, things took a turn fast.