Pick up your cell phone and take a
few minutes to scroll through your contact list. Stop right there, I know you
just opened Instagram or Facebook. Stay focused and really scroll through whom
you have in your phone and include your text history. If you are anything like
me, you have the numbers that help connect you to your family members. You
certainly carry numbers that connect you to your friends. Most importantly, you
have a few numbers that connect you to two or three individuals who you met in
passing that pulled a “Can I have your number?” stint similar to MadTV’s Darrel
who would like to get the digits that connect you both telephonically.
Well unfortunately, mine isn’t at
just two or three. You see, I have a bad habit in giving my number to individuals
who I clearly have no interest in. I am not sure if it is the sound of
desperation in their voice or I simply can’t stand to hear “well, we can be
friends” one more time, but some how those digits are exchanged. You remember
when you thought it was smart to take their number and make a convincing claim
that you will call them the day after tomorrow? I thought I was so slick.
Unfortunately, people have found new ways to lock you in at the expense of a
woman’s own trick. They demand you type in their number. Fair enough, if it
gets you to stop talking, I’m all in for the false exchange. Suddenly, he
presses “Call” on your phone. You have just been locked in.
So as I pick up my phone, I find
the following in my call log, “Do Not Pick Up,” “Don’t Know,” “Stalker,” “WTF”
and my favorite “Oh Hell No.” Than there are the numbers that simply remain
unidentified because that even seemed to be too much effort for an individual I
had no interest in. Not my best idea. Those individuals who you fail to
identify have a tendency to call you at all the worst times possible, times you
would never expect. My last awkward encounter with an unidentified number
involved myself, the man I met at the dealership, and the man I was in bed
with. All innocent, relax. Now I wont
go into detail but the conversation included a repetition of “who are you?” one
too many. Now that same man proceeded to call, text, and leave consistent
voicemails where he identified himself as “The Flirt” five times that following
evening. And this is what brings me to Swag Etiquette’s topic “Wait Period.”
Wait periods are unspoken rules and
although each person modifies them, the keyword is wait. Examples of the unspoken wait rules in regards to dating are
as followed: You call on the third day of meeting. You kiss on the third date.
You have sex on the fifth. If you swear by Steve Harvey’s rulebook, you wait
the 90 Day Period. Once again, you wait. Now let me explain why it is
imperative.
One has to understand that as a
single young woman or man who has a bit of swag to him or her, one can
guarantee you are not the only one trying to be the only one. Thank you Drake for that. Now I applaud
you on taking a chance and asking that nerve racking question “So can I call
you sometime?” I will provide you a standing ovation if that person answered
yes without a ten-minute interrogation. She or he is interested or
curious at least in seeing what you are about. However, the waiting period is
imperative and therefore it is detrimental if you do not…
Calm the fuck down.
Please, if I gave you my number,
give it some time for me to be curious as to whether or not you are going to
call. Let me double check my phone throughout the day for a three day wait
period to see if you texted. I am going to say the one thing you shouldn’t and
most wouldn’t. You see, I am not short of any numbers and therefore your
competition is much higher. “Do Not Call Me” texted me religiously everyday
with “Hey” or “How are you?” for over a month with no response from me. It is
one year later and I still receive an occasional text from him. The “Oh Hell
Naw” tried to get at two other women while I was in the same room. He was
featured in “Can I Get Your Number?” post in February. He would call me every
other day at 2am and protest if I denied a hangout. We hadn’t even made it to a
second date. “The Stalker” frequented all forms of social networking to reach
me. I still have no idea who he is.
Now I am not saying I am not to
blame for a lot of this given that I have a hard time refusing those who
clearly need therapeutic intervention; however, the wait period is simply
common sense. We all like the chase. We thrive on competition. We reek ego as
individuals in our twenties. So here in this post, I beg you, both men and
women, wait.
Lesson: The lesson is simple. Don’t
text blast, don’t call harass, don’t Facebook poke, or Instagram “like” an
individual who you were fortunate to grab the attention of. Wait it out a
little longer and let them be curious about who you are. You might actually
interact beyond technology.
