Ghosted.

A word that has more recently entered the popular vernacular but, at my age, not one I thought I would ever have the need to use, but I’ve just been ‘ghosted’; by a 54-year-old.

How embarrassing. Not on me, on him. Seriously at 54 it’s just dreadful manners not to send a brief note saying, ‘Thank you for a lovely evening’ or ‘It was great to see you again’. I mean at 54 I think a handwritten thank you card would be less surprising than nothing at all.

But nope, nothing, nada, zippo, fucking tumbleweed.

To make this even more absurdly badly behaved, we had several dates two years ago (that story can be reviewed in ‘So, I’ve started dating’, the second half of the piece, not the first half, I’m not a complete moron) and at the beginning of our date this time around we discussed what went wrong last time.

I’ll elaborate. Last time, he tells me on Saturday night, he pulled the pin on me as a demonstration of his gallantry to give me the opportunity to be free from his intractable allure to pursue other options because he didn’t want any more children, but he was certain that I did, and if I didn’t at that moment, I definitely would in the future and he didn’t.

The fucking cheek of it. I clearly expressed I didn’t want children. I couldn’t have been clearer but obviously as a woman I don’t know my own mind and, in the future, I would absolutely want to procreate – with him.

I let this pass by saying that if I wanted children, I would have a baby. I would not be trapsing about dating at 43 trying to find a father to my unborn children, I would use the eggs I have in the freezer, pick a donor and have a baby. In other words, get over yourself. He apologised and I reiterated that I didn’t ask for anything from him last time and should we wish to continue ‘catching up’ this time, all I ask for is politeness, good manners and kindness. Those. Were. My. Words.

We came back to mine; he stayed the night, and I am 100% certain he had a lovely time.

He left for a family lunch event at around 10am, he showered, bought coffee, kissed me goodbye and left on a laugh on some stupid pun I made. I texted him at around 2pm with a funny anecdote about my neighbour having knocked on the door under the pretext of ‘did I want a collection of old Vogue magazines that he found in his attic and was about to throw away’ but was clearly ‘does she have company? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge’ ….and nothing.

Not a peep. No laughing emoji, no ‘thanks for your company’, nothing. We’re on day 4 and still nothing.

To reiterate, I want nothing from him. I am not seeking a third husband, a father for my unwanted and unborn children or a partner to introduce to my parents. As I clearly stated, just 4 days ago, I am seeking company, kindness, good manners and bluntly; sex and in return I make a good date for parties and social events, I’m amusing, fun to be around and, by his own review ‘the best sex he’s ever had’.

If he hasn’t died, or someone in his immediate family hasn’t died, then this behaviour is poor from anyone over the age of 18, at 54, it’s bloody atrocious.

Stewing in my offended-ness by his straight-up lack of manners, I have obviously been considering the date in a bit more depth and it has occurred to me that he didn’t ask me any questions over the course of the evening. We know each other a bit, we dated over several months last time around and I told him about my job ending etc. and he didn’t ask me ‘So what’s next?’ or ‘What are your plans?’, literally zero interest, no intrigue at all as to what my future life plans were.

I don’t say this because he should be interested in MY future because it’s me but as a human don’t you have any interest at all in the life of other humans? We talked about his business at length, but he never once asked me about mine. I think this displays a real lack of depth as a human. To not have the awareness to ask me about my life as a standard conversation filler let alone because we know each other, demonstrates such a thin depth of character as to be pretty gross. 

It did remind me in my pondering that he did once tell me ‘My dance card is full.’ when it came to making new friends. This is a man who is happy with the same group of friends, all humorously nicknamed, that he’s had since primary school, and I do think that says so much about a human.

I have no desire whatsoever to train a 54-year-old in basic manners or to spend time with someone who has no interest in other humans, not even those they are sharing a bed with, so should he reach out again at some point, I shall very politely decline.

As a postscript, in reference to ‘So, I’ve started dating’, he was late for our date by 25mins because he had been caught in traffic at Westfield Bondi on a mission to buy new Adidas trainers which he was wearing. It might be Donald Trump’s tariffs, but the Swedish-trainer-lifecycle has clearly become extinct.