As Thursday approached, the text "intimacy level" picked up. Which I was not prepared for. Ok ok ok. By intimacy level, I mean he went from Hero to Zero.
The texts, which took place during the work day, started to escalate slowly.
What color what?
I must digress here. Feel free to comment a response, but how many girls can actually stomach the word "panties?" Most every girl I know is weirded out by it.
Back to the topic at hand. I didn't know how to answer, but knew that one date didn't warrant work-time texts messages about my underwear. I played it coy at first, not quite sure how to respond. There were a lot of "ha"s preceding and following the meat of my response texts. Little did I know, or intend, this only encouraged Chubs. This landed him on a path to a new nickname.
The dirty factor increased, turning into things I only imagine he heard in pornos and thought would work on a girl in real life. I tried to justify them by thinking either he had a severe drug and alcohol problem and wasn't sober when sending (which, HELLO should tell me to run for my life) OR he was kidding.
Now, I have two brothers and am not easily embarrassed or made to feel uncomfortable. But Chubs managed to do both with his texts. I ran them by my friends to see if I was just being prude. I received a resounding no.
So I responded to one of his texts, "Listen, I don't mean to make a big deal out of anything, but those text messages make me feel kinda uncomfortable." I patted myself on the back for addressing it - being that I have a tendency to just let things slide even if they bother me.
As I was feeling good about myself, I got his response. "Oh, you're just being shy!"
My gut reaction was panic. Shit. I am? I guess I am really prude or juvenile or something. Then I realized, Hey this fatty is manipulating. I'm not being shy; I'm being honest.
"I don't think I'm being shy. You're making me feel uncomfortable."
"Ha ha I'm just kidding. I won't do it anymore."
And he didn't. For a couple days.