Radio Silence and Early Morning Blonde Sightings （Or Three Days of Hell）
Things I’ve learned about dating a biker (are we dating? is that what this is?) over the last three days:
Sometimes “club business” is actually club business
Creating a spreadsheet tracking “Hours Since Last Contact” doesn’t help
But throwing yourself into work sometimes does
The wall between my apartment and Mrs Primrose’s is NOT soundproof, as evidenced by her very loud “Oh dear, he still hasn’t called” commentary to what I assume is the entire Wine Club on speakerphone
Our last text exchange keeps playing in my head:
Jake (Day 1, 11:41 a.m.): That shirt better be the only thing you’re wearing when I come over tonight.
Me (Day 1, 11:42 a.m.): I was thinking about not wearing anything.
Jake (Day 1, 11:43 a.m.): Fuck.
Jake (Day 1, 5:21 p.m.): Sorry darlin’, caught up in club shit. Won’t make it tonight.
Me (Day 1, 5:22 p.m.): No worries. I hope everything is okay.
Jake (Day 1, 11 p.m.): All good. Just messy. Might be radio silence for a bit.
Me (Day 1, 11:02 p.m.): Stay safe x
And then...nothing.
Me
Day THREE. Still nothing since that last text.
Megan
He did warn you about radio silence.
Me
BUT WHY??
Megan
Club stuff like he said?
Me
Or he could be dead in a ditch.
Megan
Or he could be handling something serious.
Me
WITH THE BLONDE
Megan
Don’t spiral.
Me
Too late, already calculating trajectory.
I’ve drafted approximately 9,378 other texts that I haven’t sent.
They range from casual (“Weather’s nice.
Not that you probably care about weather during your mysterious absence.
”) to desperate (“DID THE BLONDE KILL YOU?”) to completely unhinged (“My coffee maker is judging me for drinking instant coffee. Also, I may have named it Jake Jr.”)
I even wrote code to calculate the statistical probability of various scenarios:
def calculate_silence_reasons():
likely_scenarios = {
“Legitimate club business”: 65%,
“Phone eaten by Brisbane’s only phone-eating crocodile”: 12%,
“Trapped under heavy motorcycle, surviving only on leather jacket nutrients”: 8%,
“Abducted by aliens who don’t allow texting”: 7%,
“Blonde-related activities”: 5%,
“Testing my emotional stability for science”: 3%
}
return likely_scenarios
(Don’t @ me about the invalid syntax. Technically this code doesn’t run. But neither do I when I’m emotionally destabilised by a biker with a jawline so sharp it could slash tires.)
Instead of completely losing it (okay, that could be a lie), I’ve been channelling my energy into work. Johnson’s latest catastrophe actually turned into a blessing in disguise. There’s nothing like a production crisis to keep your mind off relationship uncertainty.
I spent yesterday rewriting our entire security protocol after Johnson’s “fix” basically left the front door wide open to every hacker on the internet. Even our CEO stopped by my desk to thank me for catching it before it went live.
“This is why you’re our senior developer,” he said, while Johnson sulked in the corner. “Quick thinking under pressure.”
Karen’s latest spreadsheet (which she’s titled “Post-Coital Communication Analysis vs Crisis Management Matrix: A Study in Personal and Professional Growth”) includes some fascinating correlations:
(And yes, after 51 minutes of relentless questioning from her, I screamed “YES WE HAD SEX AND IT brOKE MY brAIN,” and she immediately opened Excel.)
COLUMN A: Relationship Metrics
Time between encounters and first contact
Correlation between orgasm count and response rate
Statistical probability of ghosting after bedroom activities
Likelihood of mysterious blonde interference
Motorcycle sound recognition accuracy
Hours spent overthinking text messages
COLUMN B: Professional Achievement Metrics
Code emergencies resolved (471% increase since emotional crisis began)
Production fires extinguished
Hours spent saving company from Johnson’s “help”
Bugs fixed while stress-coding at 3 a.m.
Security protocols enhanced during emotional turmoil
Percentage increase in coding efficiency when sexually frustrated
Her correlation graph suggests that my coding ability increases in direct proportion to my emotional instability, which...actually tracks. Nothing like heartache to make you really focus on your terminal commands.
She’s even included a pie chart showing the distribution of my coping mechanisms:
45% Aggressive debugging
30% Security patch implementation
12% Motorcycle-related Google searches
7% Tim Tam consumption
2% Actually dealing with my feelings
(Karen insists the remaining 4% is “time spent staring at phone waiting for text,” and has filed it under “emotionally unquantifiable data.”)
I keep reminding myself about how real Jake feels. Especially with his mum. That has to mean something, right?
But then this morning, because the universe loves testing my newfound emotional growth, I got a reality check.
At 6 a.m., I was headed out early to implement the security patches before the system upgrade. And there they were in the car park.
Her. The blonde. On the back of his bike. At sunrise. Leaving the car park.
I stood there in my “I code like a girl, try to keep up” T-shirt that I’d slept in (because laundry takes time away from stress-coding), and a messy bun.
Meanwhile, she looked like she’d just finished shooting a “How to Be a Perfect Biker Babe” YouTube video.
I didn’t even know hair could do what hers was doing at 6 a.m. Is there a secret hair handbook they don’t share with sleep-deprived coders?
The old Eden would have had a complete meltdown. The new Eden (or at least the Eden trying very hard to be new) took a deep breath and remembered:
1. Jake doesn’t seem like the type to play games
2. He warned me about club business
3. There’s probably a logical explanation
4. Even if there isn’t, I’m still the badass who just saved the entire company from catastrophic data breach
Me
DEFCON 1
Megan
What happened??
Me
Saw the blonde. On his bike.
Megan
You okay?
Me
Working on it. Saved the company yesterday.
Megan
That’s my girl. Channel that energy.
Me
Into debugging or denial?
Megan
Into being the queen you are.
Me
While emotionally-eating Tim Tams?
Megan
Multitasking is a valuable skill.
Current status : Implementing security patches while reminding myself I’m not a maybe, I’m a hell yes.
Also, that Jake’s proved himself different from the tech bros who’ve hurt me before.
Though I may have also started a new spreadsheet titled “Reasons to Trust vs Reasons to Run” because old habits die hard.
UPDATE (9:13 a.m.): At work and Karen’s already started a new spreadsheet called “Statistical Analysis of Suspicious Early Morning Motorcycle Departures vs Professional Achievements.” I both hate and love her dedication to my crisis.
P.S. Is it possible to simultaneously trust someone and want to hack their phone to track their location? Asking for a friend. That friend is me. I’m the friend currently fighting the urge to write a tracking algorithm while also believing in the goodness of leather-clad men with dimples.
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