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It’s Time to Open Up Your Fucking Pie Hole!

You’ve probably been in a situation where you bit down on your lower lip, and didn’t say a word in fear of, I don’t know, causing a scene. And while there may be times where it’s appropriate to stay quiet and address the issue at a later date, there are also times where you need to open your fucking mouth and stick up for yourself.

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A little while ago, I went on a date with this guy. Now, I don’t want to name drop; I feel like that would be a little too Taylor Swift-y. So, I went on this date with Jay T. in Hillcrest (oops!), and while it was fun in the beginning, the evening ended much like the finale of Dexter: I was left feeling confused, disappointed, and just plain pissed off.

Let me start by giving you a little bit of the backstory. Grab a beer; this may take a while. We met on Tinder. Oh, wow! I guess that didn’t take as long as I thought it would. You’re up to speed!

Seriously speaking, Tinder can go one of two ways. Well, it can go a lot of ways, but to save time and energy, let’s discuss the two most popular types of people on Tinder. There are those who are genuinely looking for a relationship, and those who just want to screw. And don’t try to say that there’s a gray area in which people are actually looking for friends and buddies to “hangout with.” Bitch, please. Tinder is pretty cut and dry; after all, you’re initially judging someone off of their looks. Don’t tell me you swiped right on a girl that makes Shrek look like Ms. America all because you thought she’d be fun to go to the movies with, or meet for a kayaking adventure. Now, there’s nothing wrong with just wanting sex; that’s your prerogative. However, own it, and be truthful about your intentions.

Anyway, back to Jay T. in Hillcrest. We matched on Tinder and started talking. In the beginning, I was a little apprehensive. From his pictures, his body was damn near perfect (we’re talking abs for days, and that infamous “V” line), and his face was quite attractive, too. Maybe that should have been the first clue. If someone has posted a half-naked picture of themselves on the Tind, they’re either looking for a hookup, or they are a complete douche.

After exchanging numbers and texting for a week, we decided to meet for a drink one Friday night. Now, you can never be sure how these “meetings” are going to go, so I was feeling a bit nervous throughout the day. I wasn’t hiding anything; he knew what I looked like. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if he’d be disappointed once we were actually talking face-to-face.

Fast forward through the boring work day, and me gelling my hair and brushing my teeth in a Wal-Mart parking lot (I didn’t have time to go home in between work and the date to get ready), to when we met at a bar in Hillcrest and sort of, kind of hit it off — or so I’d thought.

When he ordered a second drink instead of asking for the check, I assumed that he was into me (no pun intended). Or, in the least, he liked my company and enjoyed talking to me. After all, if he didn’t like me or wanted to get away from me, why order another drink? Jay T. could have politely asked for the check, and the two of us could have gone our separate ways.

More conversation followed with the second drink, which led to us deciding to bar hop. Again, and maybe this is my English degree causing some dismay (I’m trained to read into things), I figured he liked me. After all, this would have been yet another opportunity to flee.

To make a long story short (I know — too late), we ended up going to four or five bars throughout the evening. It was at the third bar that Jay T. started talking to another guy, and then accepted this other guy’s phone number right in front of me. Now, if your jaw is hanging open, thank you. If you didn’t flinch after reading that revelation, then you’re an ass who is clearly on Tinder just to increase your number of sexual partners.

And, one other thing . . . Go fuck yourself.

You’re most likely wondering why I continued to stay out with Jay T. after he proved to be, you know, a big bag of shit. Here’s why: I didn’t open my fucking pie hole and tell him to go kick rocks.

I had a great childhood: supportive parents, safe neighborhood, an overall wonderful family, and the “F” word was always welcomed and a part of my upbringing. I didn’t tell Jay T. to “fuck off,” because I’d been caught off guard. This rarely happens to me, but it did that night. Instead of having dignity and sticking up for myself, I completely shut down. I didn’t say a word. We went to two other bars in utter silence; my hurt and confused feelings were masked by a somber face.

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I try not to regret anything in life. Everything happens for a reason, right? But I’m still so angry at myself (even more than I am at Jay T.) for not speaking up. I’m a person with a voice; he should have been told that what he did was not okay.

Needless to say, I haven’t heard from him, and I probably never will. But, not only am I angry, I’m also disappointed. After all, this man is saved in my phone as “Jay Hot as Fuck Tinder.” As well, I’m upset that he’ll never know how little he made me feel. I mean, that’s the worst: someone does something wrong, but doesn’t even realize it.

So, here’s my advice in case something like this happens to you: open your mouth! Say how you feel! People aren’t mind readers. Everyone has a voice — use it! Though I’m tired of giving guys the benefit of the doubt (because, let’s face it: fuck the benefit; I have doubt), perhaps Jay “I’m a Big Tool” T. didn’t realize he had done anything wrong. Maybe he didn’t realize he’d hurt my feelings. If he had, maybe that evening would have gone differently. And now, well, now I guess I’ll never know.

Stick up for yourself, people, because no one else is going to do it for you!

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