His jeans cost six times more than my entire outfit. I estimated his jeans at $250, knowing the brand and style, and my jcrew clearance jeans, long tank, and flips at a grand total of $40, maybe $45 if my plastic beads were taken into consideration.

He was nice enough, but I kept a distance, figuring his jeans were reflective of his priorities. From my personally-conducted Very Scientific Study, guys who spend that much on clothes tend to go for the short-skirt, big-boob type of girl. I will never be that girl; I am far too in love with my comfy pants and no-shower Sundays. Also, I like to feel superior to those who rely heavily on superficial traits; attraction should be based on the important things. Like dimples and muscles.

The evening was low-key –me and four guys at a dive bar–and I stayed sober, having to drive one of the guys home at the evening’s end. At the end of the night, he asked if I was sure I had to leave, I said yes, doled out some hugs, and drove home to fall asleep in my own bed.

Eight hours later, I woke to the following text:

“So are you going to join me on [his boat’s name] the motorboating son of a bitch today … oh yeah, this is that fun/hot accountant you met last night … I got your number from Baby Cakes, I hope that’s cool with you.”

How flattering is that? Here I was completely overlooking the guy, and not only did he ask for my number, but he FOLLOWED-UP only a few hours later. Plus he integrated two of our discussion threads into the text (his boat and the prevalence of lame people within his occupation), showing that he was at least paying attention to our conversation. Points for him.

“Hmm, that description isn’t ringing a bell, seems a bit contradictory. But hello. Unfortunately I have to work at my serving job starting late afternoon. Raincheck?”

While waiting for his response, I wondering how he’d react to the grief I gave, if I should’ve maybe toned it down until he knew me better. Not all guys (cough cough, Realtor, cough ahem) can take it.

“Not ringing a bell? Come on now, oh wait maybe dead sexy is a better description … remember now? … and of course you can raincheck … don’t work too hard today. Text me sometime.”

Nice response, good for him. Even though I am still slightly skeptical about his personality/priorities, the guy did earn some points for the contact and the banter.

I wrote back saying that ah yes, now I did remember him and to enjoy the sun and motorboating. Then I saved his number to my phone.

Text me sometime. Which, dammit, means the ball is in my court … which would require action on my part … and action is not avoidance … so … I’m not good at that. This dating thing is so much easier when I expect the dude to play games or live in another state.