The Situationship
Welcome to the Zoomer Hell
This bitch just sucked my dick in her car after her shift at Target. Not gonna ask why she wears so much glitter and whatever this new makeup trend with Latinas is in SoCal, looks like raccoon eyes to me but what do I know.
‘By the way, I should’ve told you but I have two babies they’re three and five.’
‘You’ll text me when you get home, right?’ I don’t know maybe.
I’m just not phased by this shit anymore. When I was less jaded I would’ve had a reaction to a 23 year old in this situation, now I just mentally check out and try to subtly check the time. How do I gently remind her she’s the one who gave me a time she had to be home by? I’m glad I can’t see myself in the car mirror. I know I’m gently holding someone while I give a thousand yard stare into the void she can’t see. We both know what this is, I guess it’s nice to pretend.
‘Você é xispa!! Divo babilônico’
Now I’m being yelled at in Portuguese inside my car in the middle of the day at a crowded mall. Guess who somehow tracked glitter into their own car. Guess the tik toks those girlies make were right. Oh and she found a (unopened and unused by the way) box of condoms. She asks plainly, ‘Are you cheating on me?’
Well, no I’m not. Because I never asked you out. And you never said we were exclusive. And I can still see on Hinge that you have an active profile and changed your pictures. And yeah maybe we go on dates and spend weekends together and I take you to Sephora when you get mad but not once did I ever call you my girlfriend. Your phone goes on do not disturb and face down just like mine does, I noticed. We didn’t even have sex the last time I came over. You made me dinner though. Is that a formal way to ask someone out in this era? I told you I might move to a new state next month. I told you we weren’t dating. I get all the memes of other white guys say ‘if you see a 5 foot latina hitting me I’m where I want to be’ but I really am not where I want to be. Please don’t cry. Ok well don’t hit me either. We’ll do this next week again I guess. If not, I’ll just stop responding. Girls love doing that. It seems to be the only thing they are receptive too. Do I hear myself? The fuck is happening.
Back in the old days of pre-covid we used to differentiate between relationships and friends with benefits. We actually had the balls to call it that instead of it being a ‘talking stage’ or ‘situationship.’ The girl I wrote about a lot1 set me straight. We hung out every day for weeks and called nonstop. She told me how she wanted to raise (a heavily implied ‘our’) kids. I told her about my plan to buy a bunch of rental properties and her immediate response was ‘You seem kind of autistic, you need me and my Chinese scammer genes to make it work and get rich. Let’s do it.’
I remember we were in the gym and you begged me for a hug and looked into my eyes. I should’ve said fuck it and kissed you there but I wanted to date you and also didn’t want to get banned from my gym. I asked you to be my girlfriend the next day.
That’s when I learned how things really worked. ‘I’m not looking for that right now but let’s keep talking!’ That turned into we couldn’t even hug because you were traumatized in your childhood by men and needed to be celibate and take it slow. That turned into now you won’t come over to my apartment but will go on fancy dates (they’re not dates though! we’re just friends and I’m going to show up drunk in the sluttiest dress I own!) You wanted me to ask you to the ball but only if ‘you can’t find anyone else and need someone’ just so you could get the satisfaction of telling me ‘no, you should take someone you are going to marry’ when my date cancelled on me the day of. Color me shocked when I saw you scrolling through your phone and quickly read a text you about fucking some firefighter a week ago. I hate that we both just pretended we didn’t read it. Glad we’ve even blocked each others carrier pigeons and smoke signals now.
Ok so if you want the girl you can’t ask her out. You have to wait for her to just insinuate you’re in a relationship or accuse you of something. But I can only act that way if I really don’t care about them. If I only talk to one girl I fall deeply in love with her and buy her flowers and write her poems. That gives her the ‘ick.’ Easy solution is to just maintain a roster of girls you kind of hate I suppose. No, I’m not a chud who blames the woman either. She lives on these apps too. She understands that this has turned into a marketplace and if someone is making too big a play there’s a reason for it. If a guy has to resort to ostentatious displays that means something is wrong with him. That’s what stalkers do. The one girl I go back and forth with in Instagram DMs has been the victim of me trying too hard. Offering nice dinners and flowers to get her attention. We hung out one time and made out. We trade nudes once every few months. We’re awful for each other but we’re convenient I guess. She thinks me being in the military is too ‘low class,’ then she found out my test scores and grades and now she’s mad I’m not in medical or law school. You’re a whore on my screen and now you sound like my mom scolding me for wasting away. I think I was supposed to just be given an arranged marriage but was born in the wrong era and culture.
I’ve learned how to play the situationship game pretty well by now. I still like to give gifts so I came up with a system to protect my image. I get a shopping cart and walk around whatever store struck me on my drive to the date. I meander from aisle to aisle, thinking about the little comments she made. This is a case of her favorite energy drink in the rare flavor that just got discontinued, grab it. She loves making flower bouquets with legos, she said her favorite flower was a tulip, grab it. Her favorite animal is a penguin and they have an oversized pillow of an adorable one, grab it. Ok now look at the cart. You have to remove the two nicest ones. Ok we’re down to the energy drinks, your rule says you have to divide this in half at least. Set the pack back, get a single drink for her. Now you have an appropriate gift that shows you’re a great guy but not some weirdo. I am a master, I have coup d’oeil.
I learned the hard way who I can do this too. Sometimes generosity can be cruelty. The girl I drive an hour to see in Irvine is not someone I should do this for. I just can’t be bothered to drive that far and waste a whole day entertaining her, I’m an asshole so I only go once a month. She’s sweet and has a great rack and loves to give head but she gets a bit caught up too easily. She loves to openly say how she’s not looking for a relationship. Then a day later she’ll send a snapchat message saying ‘I miss you’ and unsend it thinking I didn’t use the trick to swipe 3/4 the way and read it already. If I had the heart I would cut her off… but that’d be like withdrawing a job application before you got the final offer from somewhere else.
The new Latina has big tits too. More of an ass guy but every single one of these girls seems to have a rack and no ass. Lobster too buttery or something like that. Well I know they had too much butter because not one of them seems to be able to lose the 10 pounds to become an 8.5/10. Well maybe they wouldn’t even look at me if I did. Maybe I should be thankful they start every morning with their triple chocolate extra mocha double shot espresso. Weight just seems controllable you know? No amount of effort or steroids can make me into a 6’4 billionaire werewolf but maybe a calorie counter could make you into an instagram model.
Anyway, she just threatened to ‘break up with me.’ She’s supposed to leave the state in a month. We both actually made a hard agreement that this was temporary. She made those terms. I think I’m going to become that Australian Prime Minister who went for a swim in the ocean and just never came back. Why the fuck did she just text me talking about our future children? I don’t have the heart to let her down easy and I don’t like her enough to entertain it. So I guess I’ll just be a victim of the times and keep fucking her until one of us just ghosts the other.
I really wanted to date this other girl from Laguna Beach whose family has a private jet. She went to Stanford and got turned on by my ambition and intellect. She makes at least three times what I do, I’m sure of it. We called for 6 total hours in two days. She almost drove right to my apartment to spend the night then and there. She also said up front she wanted something temporary. Next weekend (no calls during the week, she’s a corporate girlie) she called for 8 hours in 2 days after cancelling plans on me. She apologized profusely for not being responsive, she doesn’t believe in ghosting, has a body count of 1, and proclaimed she is nothing like other girls in our generation. Now she was talking about fucking in the bathroom of where our first date would be. Then she talked for 3 hours about our specific plans of how we would raise our kid and which boarding schools would be acceptable. She went on a rant about the federal reserve. I went on one about the geopolitics of the Scarborough Shoal.
Plans were made for next week. She texted the next day excited about seeing me this weekend after her company closed on a big deal. And then the first text went green. Sometimes her phone is off, no biggie. Then the second. Waited a day. Then the third was neon green. Fuck it, let’s see. Yep. Call straight to voicemail. Should I stab myself in the eye with this corn on the cob holder or reopen Hinge and scroll through the matches I didn’t message? I can’t even pretend to do my week long ‘celibacy’ anymore, jacking off every night doesn’t hit the same. And I’m not gonna date some girl who just wants to use me for my benefits. Maybe I’m a psychopath, I don’t know.
There was a me before using Clavicular techniques and getting carpal tunnel on Tinder. There was the girl I was going to marry. I was probably too young and naive, well she was even younger than me but... whatever. I remember driving to Richmond and watching the sunset at her favorite spot and her telling me she would love me forever. I remember meeting her parents and her meeting mine. I even remember her putting on that ‘One That Got Away’ Katy Perry music video and saying, ‘I know this is so stupid and it’s a dumb song but if we ever break up I’m gonna feel like they do at 60 and regret everything.’ I remember you not so subtly telling me your ring size and reminding me of your birthstone. I remember walking into Jared to look ‘just because.’ It’s diamond by the way, that’s your birthstone. And your favorite flower is a white hydrangea. It’s been 3 and a half years but the other week I bought a bouquet of them and propped them up in a cowboy boot just like I did for you on that day by the lake in July years ago. They’re in my dumpster now.
Your friends sucked but that was a small hurdle. I was the sweetest guy you ever met. I was the smartest guy you ever talked to. I had the best dick you’d ever had. I was the most thoughtful. I fit in with your family as if I’d been there for years. Who wouldn’t love coming downstairs to see their boyfriend talking in Arabic with their mom over the tea she made?
You broke up with me in a single text. You called and let me know, ‘You should’ve known I was just being romantic. Why would I have been serious?’
This isn’t exhaustive. I could go on and on about the fucked up relationships that all of us in our 20s are now subjected to. Those of us who didn’t meet the one in college. Even those of us with kids somehow end up in this neverending dance. Everyone is exposed to so many options that none seems good enough. Everyone is scared of what commitment means but we’re all equally afraid of being alone. Some of those problems are just human I suppose.
But this isn’t natural nor is it sustainable. We live in a completely atomized society that has turned each of us into an interchangeable economic unit. Why would some tech CEO in Silicon Valley view us any differently? How could the developers of dating apps view it any differently? Is there even a way to design an app based of interpersonal communication with strangers that does not just immediately become a marketplace?
There’s been a bifurcation of the men my age. Half my friends are just truecels who never get any girls. Some play video games all day. Some love to drink. Some just lift autistically. They see women as evil harpies who exist to humiliate them.
Then there’s the opposite. The Patrick Bateman looksmaxxers. Using ‘game’ religiously. Racking up body counts that sound like the fake reports commanders made in Vietnam. Being openly disrespectful to every woman they meet cause frankly the shit just works. They view women as beneath contempt, not the same species.
And then there’s me. Somewhere in the middle. Sort of where I fall a lot in these situations. Whenever we had our 3 mile run I used to always fall somewhere in the middle around 20 minutes. 20 people would be in front of me at a sub 18 minute pace. 30 would be behind me at around a 23 minute pace. Maybe one or two souls was within a minute of me either way. Guess I didn’t get the memo to either go balls to the wall or just totally give up.
I don’t have an answer apart from the complete revolution of our society and Spenglerian pseudomorphosis into a new world soul that replaces the Faustian Soul. Maybe ban social media as a start? Sometimes I think I understand how women feel fully. Other times I get angry and clueless. I’m sure they have their own bifurcation and view as with the same contempt. I do know this. We’re in a South Korean race to 0 TFR and I’m doing my part!
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