You’re The Game, And I Lost The Rulebook.

“If a guy takes an hour to reply to your text, take three to reply to his.” “If you like a guy, flirt with someone else in front of him to make him jealous.” “If a guy is talking to other girls, tell him it doesn’t bother you, and then he’ll like you for not being clingy”.

What. The. Fuck.

And I thought game playing was just for children.

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When did this happen? One moment I was 14 years old watching The Notebook, believing love was all about eating ice-cream and jumping into ponds (what, don’t judge me, that film can melt the heart of a Rhino). Next thing I know, I’m being told the best way to get a guy’s attention is by updating my bbm status so he’ll notice and think to message me.

Honestly now? Relying on status updates to get a little action. Is that where we’re at?

I have friends getting married. Like actually walking-down-the-aisle, big-white-dress, forever-and-ever, probably-gonna pop-out-a-baby-soon, married. And here the rest of us are, staring at our phones, wondering if a more attractive display picture will eventually lead to a conversation.

Okay so admittedly that’s not what I want. Come on, I’m 21. I’m too selfish to get married yet. My idea of a sacrifice is eating canned food for three weeks so I can afford the latest Carvela seven inch wonders. The biggest lifelong commitment I plan to make any time soon, is to my bank, when I ask them to extend my overdraft by another thousand pounds.

So I’m never going to be the clingy “I found love after one date” kinda girl. Hell I’m the “I’ve been on five dates and I’m still not sure about him” chick. I suppose that’s my own doing. Indecisiveness is a horrible quality. To date, there is no found cure.

Back to the point.

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I may hold my cards close to my chest, but there’s nothing expert about the way I play. Most of the time I’m bluffing, and the rest, I’m just trying to distract you so I can take a peak at your hand.

It seems I’m not very good at games. And judging by my other single friends, neither are they. No we do not want to bare your children (baby induced stretch marks are soo last season). No we’re probably not going to marry you. And I can’t speak for the others on this last one, but I’ve never been very good at the whole, Lady and the Tramp style spaghetti eating (I’m Greek we don’t share food) it may be romantic but you’ll have to do without. Though if you’re nice I might give you my very last rolo, heck some day I might even buy you a packet of your own.

In the mean time I don’t mind a game or two. After all it bores me when things come too easily. A bit like out-eating the diabetic kid at the Mars bar eat-a-thon. Though, if this is what we’re doing now, could someone please hand me the rulebook and let it be known, that I don’t like to lose.


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