Bachelorette bastard
WEDDING SEASON SERIES
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WEDDING SEASON SERIES |
The era of multiple weddings a year is overwhelmed by feeling optimistic and simultaneously beat down by love as a single lady. The constant reminder of what you don’t have weighs heavy and can be depressing as the perpetual odd number, but it can also bring you hope that your happy ending is right around the corner. At the many events that surround a wedding, you’re always on the hunt to connect with someone that you wouldn’t have met otherwise. It’s exhausting and typically disappointing.
Leading up to a friend’s wedding, we had a bachelorette party weekend in Las Vegas. If I recall correctly, I was one of two single ladies there, and most of the attendees’ partners were celebrating the same weekend with the groom in the same hotel. So a lot of our events ended up being coupled up and I was the sober tribute, pushed onto any single guy in the room. I didn’t mind terribly since I wanted to get laid and (again) maybe meet my future husband, but it was also Vegas and the quality of men there is trash.
In addition to her bachelorette party, another event was taking place at that time in Vegas for my brother’s company. I went out there early with my parents to celebrate his business and then saw the group on and off as our groups merged throughout the weekend. On that first night in town, through his crew, I met [I honestly forgot his name], who was working with my brother to bring musical elements to his events. He was really hot, funny, and really into me. I was down.
He really made his mark on me at the club when a strange man kept attempting to dance with me by the bar, despite my many attempts to move, and he came in, grabbed me, and pulled me into his embrace, making the man finally leave me alone. Of course it took another man to claim me as his to get him to stop, which is frustrating as shit, but I was grateful that he noticed the situation and took action to help me. We partnered up for the remainder of the night as we went to other clubs, got food, and gambled in the casinos. I was giddy with the connection we were making.
I believe in an attempt to help me or just fuck up his game, one of the other guys in the group asked aloud, “[forgotten name], when is your wedding again?”
I froze and looked at him. His eyes narrowed at the whistle-blower, clearly communicating a silent “fuck you.”
“It’s next year.” He said shortly. Then he looked at me and smiled weakly.
I calculated the turn of events in my head. The age-old question screamed loudly: Why are all the good ones taken?! (side note: a “good one” does not flirt and lead on another woman all night while engaged to someone else) Immediately, I accepted that this would not lead to anything more than the flirtation that we have already engaged in and this is a dead-end, unfortunately.
He attempted to keep up the mood for the remainder of the night, but there was no way to bring back that excitement or enjoyment. I said a quick goodbye upon arriving back at the hotel and successfully avoided his arms as he tried to hug me. I was disappointed in the outcome but also very proud of myself for not being the other woman (I’ve been the other woman multiple times in my life and it’s never a good time).
The next day marked the start of the bachelorette party and I was grateful to be with my friends, who listened sympathetically to the series of unfortunate events that occurred before their arrival, and for the distractions of celebrating something completely different and separate from him. We got all dressed up in our Vegas finest, enjoyed a group dinner, then hit the clubs.
Eventually we landed at a club where my brother and his coworkers and friends were already at. I held my breath as I did a quick scan and saw that he wasn’t there, at least not that I could see. We joined their table and I got confirmation that he was absent. At once, I was relieved and disappointed. But the night was a blast, dancing and celebrating our girl in a safe space and getting everyone back to the hotel rooms without incident.
After half-carrying-half-dragging a drunken bride back to the room, I collapsed into my bed and saw I had an Instagram notification on my phone from an unknown user. I opened it up and saw the request: “I’m sorry I missed you tonight.”
I clicked on the profile and saw that it was [forgotten name]. My heart leapt and I couldn’t contain my smile. He’s still thinking of me, he tracked down my Instagram, he messaged me … he must be into me.
My reply was cool and short, not to shut him down immediately, but also avoiding slipping back into witty banter.
“Yeah, my friend’s bachelorette party started, so we ended up at that club.”
Note: I no longer have these messages for reasons revealed later, so these are general memories of the conversations that we had.
“Did you have a good time?” He asked.
“Yes, it was really fun.”
And then he didn’t respond. Even though that’s what I was aiming for, I was also crestfallen. He put forth all this effort to get in touch with me even after the shitty ending from the night before and now he won’t even fight a little for me? I waited a few moments more to see if he would say anything, but nothing happened, so I rolled over and went to sleep.
I finally received a reply from him the next afternoon while we were at a day club. It was hot and crowded, and the pool was warmer than the air outside and milky with sunscreen, so we didn’t stay too long. I was in a much different mood today, feeling annoyed by the Vegas environment rather than the exuberance I experienced the night before, so I was more welcoming of the conversation and of the escape.
We messaged all afternoon, flirting subtly and then getting into more graphic conversations. I detailed the exchange with another bachelorette attendee and she gave me the permission I was seeking to say “fuck the fiancé”.
“What’s your plan tonight? Maybe we can meet up after the show?” (we were going to see Magic Mike)
“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll keep you posted. I would like that.”
That was the last message I got from him for the remainder of the night, despite sending a couple more (I know, pathetic). I have found this quirk if you will about myself. If I decide to do something that I know is not the right or best thing to do, I really work hard to make it happen. It’s like I have to follow through with it despite EVERYTHING telling me it’s a bad idea or trying to stop me from doing it. So, I message him after the show saying that I’d like to see him and then again asking if he’s back in his room and then querying whether he still wants to see me and then finally just sending “goodnight.”
The bachelorette party was an overall success for its purpose, but I was definitely bummed that I didn’t get to take it further with [forgotten name]. Eventually, I accepted that it was for the best and I deleted our conversation and moved on from the whole potential of it.
Then, a couple months later, I got an Instagram message from him a little past midnight.
“Hey. Long time. What are you doing?”
“Oh, wow. Hi! I’m trying to sleep but failing. What about you?”
“Just got in a huge fight. I’m not engaged anymore.”
My heart started beating so fast. The night we spent together came flooding back. The conversations, the connection, the chemistry. The potential suddenly became very real again.
“Oh, I’m really sorry to hear that. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s been bad for a while, so it isn’t that surprising.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t really know what else to say.”
“That’s okay. I want to see you.”
“Okay,” the excitement brews in the pit of my stomach. “What do you want to do?”
“Can you come over now?”
At the time I was living in Orange County and he was in Los Angeles.
“No, I’m already in bed and I have work tomorrow. But I’m free this weekend.”
“I want to see you tonight. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since Vegas.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t drive all the way up to LA tonight. I wouldn’t get there until like 2:00AM.”
“That’s fine, I’ll stay up.” he urged.
“I feel like if I come, then it’s just to have sex but I would actually like to get to know each other a bit more. Maybe have an actual date, ya know?” I tried to hold my ground without being dismissive. I was grasping onto the idea that this could actually lead somewhere and I didn’t want it to just be another one night stand.
“I need to see you tonight!”
“Look, I’m not gonna come up there tonight, but I am interested in seeing you again. So, if you wanna take me out sometime, then I’m definitely game. But now I have to go to sleep. Goodnight ❤️”
I then turned off my phone to not get pulled back into the conversation and went to sleep, feeling excited about what could come.
The next morning, I saw he responded with, “Okay, goodnight.” and I closed the app. My brother’s girlfriend knew him through the business relationship, so I messaged her telling her everything that happened. At the time, I thought, maybe I should screenshot this, but I didn’t (unfortunately).
I told her all of this in excitement and also to see if she knew anything about them breaking up. She didn’t, and then looked at his fiancé’s Instagram and said that there wasn’t anything there, but that’s not surprising since it just happened the night before.
As we continued discussing the conversation, I returned to the chat to get details and noticed that it was no longer there. It just disappeared, completely. Confused, I quit the app and reopened it thinking it was some kind of fluke, but it still wasn’t there. I searched his username and nothing came up. Did he block me?!
I asked my brother’s girlfriend to see if she could find his account. Maybe he just deleted his profile. She couldn’t find it either. I didn’t think deleting a profile would remove the conversation, but I wasn’t totally sure. Then she told me that she went to his fiancé’s page again and saw him tagged in an old photo and when she clicked on it, it said, “user not found.”
After googling how an Instagram conversation could disappear, I learned that this happens when someone blocks you. So, he blocked me and her, apparently (really covering his bases!).
I was confused and hurt once again by this roller coaster. Later, I got a message from her saying that the fiancé posted a story with him at their wedding cake tasting, so it didn’t seem like they actually broke up.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MEN?! And yes, I am generalizing. This man is engaged, tried to fuck me without telling me that, then connected with me enough to make me want it too. THEN he messages me out of the blue, telling me he’s no longer engaged, demands me to drive up to see him IMMEDIATELY so that we can fuck, and then blocks me while still in his relationship.
I have no idea what happened that night. Maybe they did get into a fight and he saw an opportunity to have sex with me, then they got back together and he hid all evidence. Or they never actually broke up, but he had a free night BEFORE WEDDING CAKE TASTING, got drunk, and thought he’d shoot his shot. It’s fucking disgusting.
Because he blocked all people associated with me, I don’t know whether he got married, is still married, or even alive. But I know he’s a bastard and I know that there are a lot of men out there like that. So, fuck all of you who do shit like this.
One thing I feel good about in this story is my resolve to NOT go see him that night. This wasn’t too long before my husband and I got together and I really was over the whole fuckboy situation. If you want to see me or have sex with me or whatever, you have to fucking make an effort. And that means taking me out on an actual date rather than asking me to drive 2 hours to you in the middle of the night. The old me might have done that, but the one that he messaged was definitely over that shit, and I love that about me.
