Part 1: The buildup.
Messages are exchanged. Plans are made to meet for the first time. Cell phone numbers are traded, to let the other know that you're there, and what table you're at, and what you're wearing so they can pick you out of the crowd.
Part 2: The encounter.
Drinks are ordered, and consumed. Conversation flows freely, progresses snappily, opinions are shared, ideas are coloured-in. "Hey, this is going pretty great. I think she's into me." Two hours pass, then three. "Whoa, it's getting late, it's a work night, we'd better get going, eh?"
Part 3: The parting.
"You're going this way? Well, I'm going that way."
"That was really fun, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, it was! Would you like to do this again?"
"Definitely! Hey, have yourself a good night."
"That was it, man. Couldn't have gone better. Ah, I feel good about that one."
Part 4: The fade.
A couple of messages are traded back and forth. Plans are perhaps even made for a second date. Eventually, reply times get longer, then... nothing. Just fade-to-black. No explanation given, no rationale outlined, not even the standard, "Sorry, I just wasn't feeling it" -- which, true or not, you can't argue with. Who is anyone to tell anyone else what they're feeling?
Humans are pattern-seekers. We try to connect dots -- sometimes when there isn't even any connection to be made -- to try to explain the mysteries of life, to make order out of apparent disorder. But when there's literally no information to go on, and disorder is everywhere, that drives me up the fucking wall.
We socialize girls to be demure and quiet and not to voice their opinions -- and, when they do, they're too assertive, they're bossy, they're a bitch. But, by avoiding confrontation (and, telling a guy you're actually not interested in him, that's a confrontation), well, this is the sort of shit you get in return, boys.