It was a Saturday and we had arranged a little rendez vous the night before. Didier had told me to text him the next day to make arrangements and so around 3pm I text and asked when he wanted me. As I waited for his reply I went through the good old female routine that you painfully go through when sleeping with a new guy: shaving, exfoliating, moisturising, plucking, nail painting, underwear choosing (actually, that part's not so painful), outfit choosing, blow drying, hair straightening, perfume spraying and above all - criticitzing!
By the time I was finished this loooong beauty routine I expected a reply from Didier but nada. I figured he was just busy and would get back to me soon. I was wrong. Around 5pm I text him again. By the time 7pm rolled round I was majorly unhappy and decided that I would just treat myself to a couple of bottles of wine instead, oh and maybe some chocolate. (the endorphins in chocolate are supposed to mimic the pleaseure of sex right? Take that and the wine and it would be just like the first night I spent with Didier!)
An hour (give or take), half a bottle of rose down and copious amounts of chocolate later I was in no way feeling any endorphins, I was just plain pissed off and I sure wasn't doing myself any favours by watching 'danse avec les stars' (is that programme good in any language!?) and engaging in plentiful Facebook stalking. And then I saw it, the f**cking, bast***ing, c**t, dic***ad, frog was online! (excuse my French!) Fuelled by the wine I wrote him a somewhat snappy message:
Me: Thanks for not getting back to me, had I known you were going to cancel I would've made other plans.
Didier: You were supposed to text me to arrange.
Me: I did and you didnt reply!!!!
D : No you never
Me (getting agitated) : Oh yes I fucking did, is this not your number, 06*********?
And then...he went offline!
Oh and a little thing I forgot to mention...I had got a new phone approx 2 weeks before this whole exchange took place. Not everyone had my new number so I was still keeping my old phone charged and switched on. (Can you see where this is going?!)
About 5 minutes later my old phone started vibrating with a message: 'Hello, this is the correct number for me.' Oh yeees, you guessed it, I had entered the wrong number into my new phone. All that while being mad that I had received no reply to my texts and I hadn't even been texting the correct number - what an idiot!!! I replied and asked if Didier still wanted to meet up. He didn't, he had made alternative plans. Plenty more wine had been consumed during this exchange so I will blame that for my hot-headedness, 'Fine', I replied 'but I can't be bothered with this and therefore I never want to see you again!'
Of course it was totally irrational and over the top but Didiers response totally floored me. I swear it was the worst thing a guy has ever ever said to me and I had got some great abuse from 'C' (stupid fucking slut being a personal favourite). Never had abuse like this from a guy made me stop and think so much and really question myself. Over and over I played it in my mind, so mortified, upset and embarassed.
Didier had told me that I had bad breath!!!!
Yep, you read that right. I brush x2 a day, floss and chew plenty of gum. Jesus, how had this happened. Why hadn't any of my friends ever told me about this problem? How could I ever kiss a guy again?! I was so embarassed but I had to know the thruth and so the next day I called my great friend K (she gives tough love) to ask her if it was true. She of all people would tell me if it was. As I mumbled the awful 'Do I have bad breath?' down the phone I could feel my face burning. Thankfully I got the answer I wanted to hear: 'Whaaat?! No you do not!!! What a fucking arsehole! Do you really think I would let you go on dates with guys if you had bad breath?' K tells it like it is and even though she had to reassure me several more times I believed her.
Needless to say, I didn't contact/hear from Didier again.
But here is the lesson in this...if you ever want to make someone really paranoid, self-doubting and embarrased - tell them they have bad breath, not everyone is as lucky to have such a straight talking and honest friend as me!
