Nice guys don’t finish last.

Over-religious, sensitive boys with voices as delicate as dandelions finish last.

Through the interwebular (new word, BOOM) world of dating, I connected with this boy who seemed normal and sweet. We emailed back and forth and he finally asked me for my number, which I gave to him without much hesitation. Then he emailed me again a few hours later: “Hey C, not sure if I have the right number because some dude keeps picking up.” I re-checked our previous emails, and damn, I had accidentally given him the wrong number. Or perhaps my subconscious was trying to protect me?

We talked on the phone that night and I literally fell asleep during the call. He was boring, his voice was squeaky and soft, and he kept saying, “You giving me the wrong number. That’s a funny story.” Calm down, dude. We laughed awkwardly for one second and that was it. Stop trying to make that a “thing.”

After that conversation in which he talked about his church friends and how much he loved Jesus and how much he would love to pray for my salvation, I very honestly told him, “Hey E, I’m going to cut this conversation because I just don’t feel any connection and thank you for your time.”

Dead silence. Then he shyly joked, “But we have that funny story where you gave me the wr–”

“YES,” I interrupted. “The wrong number, yeahyeahyeah. I’m sorry, I know myself well enough to know this won’t work.”

He politely thanked me and we hung up. Then he kept texting me. Day after day. I texted him back a few weeks later, “Hey E, I thought I made myself clear, but I’d really like to say no to us having any further interactions.” He politely complied again.

Then he added me on Facebook a couple weeks ago with this message:

“Hey C, it has been a while huh? I wanted to add you as a friend because I still think about that funny story where–”

Do I even need to finish? Excuse me as I set my eyeballs on fire.