“I simply don’t understand…the date went so well”
This, unfortunately, is the brutal aftermath of a girl who’s been ghosted. The tale is as old as time: My friend, Lauren, a witty 24-year-old who works in PR, agreed to go out with a scruffy, 26-year-old musician after five days of flirty Hinge exchanges. He suggested they meet at a dive bar in Brooklyn—even though it was a Wednesday, and she lives in Manhattan and she was exhausted from work. Still, she powered through, and after 30 minutes of conversation, she knew it was a $44 Uber well-spent. The guitar player was just as handsome in person, and they talked about everything from family and childhood to career goals and wanderlust. After four hours of chatting, he paid for their drinks and said he had to get up early for work the next day. As they waited outside for her second Uber of the evening to arrive, he kissed her and said, “text me when you get home.” Then, before she could even take off her makeup, her phone pinged with the ‘did you get home safe’ text from him. Score. She wrote back that she made it home, had a nice time and that they should do it again soon. He replied, “yes, let’s hang out soon.”
Twelve days later, she’s still waiting for him to follow up.
Naturally, my friend has found herself in a downward spiral with every passing day of post-date radio silence. Her texts to me have gone from, “is it too much to bring up the long-term effects of my parents’ divorce on a first date?” to “do you think he was disappointed by the way I looked in person?”