"She Laughed All Night. Then She Ghosted You. Here's Why."
Dinner ran three hours. She laughed at everything. You walked her to her car thinking this one's locked in.
Then: nothing. Two texts. No reply. What happened?
You did what most men do on a great date. You filled every silence, answered every question, and left her with nothing to wonder about. No mystery. Nothing to sit with when she got home.
Rule 3 of the "22 Rules" changes the ending: tell her a little, hold back the rest, and let her imagination do the chasing. The ghosting stops too.
Girl called me Ted Bundy at the bar
- Thread starter Trenton
- Start date
"Stop Asking Your Friends What to Text Her"
Your buddy Dave has been single for three years and thinks "hey u up" is a valid strategy. Your other buddy Mike just got dumped and told you to "just be yourself."
You showed them her text. You asked them to decode the emoji. You drafted four responses and sent the screenshot to the group chat for a vote.
She's been waiting forty minutes.
Put the phone down. Stop crowdsourcing your love life. Type something that sounds like you. Hit send. Then go do literally anything else with your evening.
Mike32ct
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iqqi
Master Don Juan
OP's retort was quite simply witty and fresh. Not canned, not lame, and not p!ssy or emotional.
Good job OP, but it was kind of creepy that you smelled her hair. Unless that was part of the joke.
I also think that Jariel is giving awesome advice here. It IS creepy to randomly and excessively just approach, approach, approach. You may snag one here and there but I doubt you'll be catching anything of value. I don't know if that is what the OP was doing in this case, he may have just walked into a Queen B's lair, but his response was awesome in any case.
"I just moved here from Florida."
That sentence contains at least five follow-up questions she WANTS you to ask. Where in Florida? What brought you here? How long have you been in the area? What do you miss? How does it compare to here?
She handed them to you on a silver platter. And you said, "Oh cool. I come here every week. I love this band. Ummm... pretty crowded tonight."
She smiled politely. Nodded. And never texted you back.
I was that guy for years. Talking too much. Listening too little. Panicking about my next sentence while she was literally feeding me the answers.
Then I found 22 rules that fixed the whole thing. Rule number one: shut up and listen. She'll tell you exactly what to say.
Poonani Maker
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I had heard the name Ted Bundy before but couldn't tell you much about him until I googled him after reading this thread. I mean who the fvck keeps up with serial killers from the 70's? either she was old as fvck or she spends too much time googling psycho's. maybe she has a thing for those types. I was 8 years old when he got fried, so yeah can't say I know much about him or really gave a sh!t about him. i surely didn't know he drove a VW bug for christ sakes. I guess I'm weird for keeping up with news TODAY and not giving a piss about what happened in the 70's/early 80's.Aaron B said:
Mike32ct
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That was my other thought. Your typical bar girl is too young to even know who Ted Bundy was. Hell, most are too young to know who Al Bundy was LOL.Robert28 said:
"She's Out of Your League"
You've said it a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. And every time you say it, you train your brain to freeze the next time she walks into the room.
Leagues are a myth invented by guys who are scared of women.
She's a person. She has bad breath in the morning. She picks songs she can't sing in the shower. She overthinks her own texts.
Walk over. Say something. The league dissolves the second you open your mouth.