Pre-Negging Is Not Cool

Dear Beau, I know you might be the Queen of the Negaverse, but….

Pre-negging is not cool.

Gentle readers, you may have heard the term “negging,” but this may be the first time you’re hearing the term pre-negging because it’s very likely I coined it.

While negging is a tactic insecure men use to bring a beautiful, confident woman down a notch so that the man is in control of the interaction, pre-negging is an even more aggressive tactic whereby the aforementioned insecure man is attempting to neg you before he even secures a date with you.

Enter Beau, the master (??) and perhaps inventor of this aggressive tactic, who I matched with some time back on one of the many dating apps available to us lucky single gals. Okay, your first question might be, “Michelle, why would you match with a guy whose parents named him Beau? Wasn’t that enough of a giveaway?” Fair question, but in my defense, I always try to be openminded and nonjudgmental.

When we matched, I was pretty busy traveling for work and doing my thang so it took me about 5 days to write back to his intro with a friendly explanation of how I hadn’t checked the app in a while. I doubt even two seconds passed before a response popped up: he was glad I wrote back and was hoping we could get off the app and meet up. A little more assertive than I prefer, but what the hey? I gave him my digits.

Seconds later, I received the requisite greeting on my phone—”Hey, Beau here. I’m walking right now. Mind if I call?”

Normally, I’d politely decline a phone call at such an early stage, but it all happened so fast I didn’t have time to think (which I suspect is precisely the purpose of the speed with which he moved from app messaging to phone call like a cockroach scurrying for cover from the light).

“Okay,” I think, “what’s the worst that can happen?” I should know better.

Beau proceeds to monologue for 10 minutes as I walk the blocks from the train to my apartment.

You see, pauvre Beau has had such a hard time on these apps. Beau is accustomed to dating supermodels and is really only attracted to supermodels. He shows up on these app dates, and the women are just not attractive so he’s having such a hard time.

As he wraps up his long-winded rant on how none of us app girls look like the supermodels he dated back in California where he owned a very successful business he sold so he could retire in New York City, he tells me that I shouldn’t expect anything serious from going on a date with him. Because if I don’t look like a supermodel, he won’t be interested or attractive.

“So what d'ya think?” he asks. “Wanna meet up?”

Oh man, I really am too damn nice.

“Thank you for being so upfront and transparent with me about what you’re looking for,” I reply. Yes, I really did say that. “Knowing all that, I’d rather not meet up, but good luck out there!”

“Well, hold on,” he says. “Why don’t you want to meet up?”

“I’m looking for something serious,” I reply, “and you just told me this won’t lead to something serious. And I’m busy so I’d rather not.”

He backpedals. “I didn’t say I wasn’t looking for something serious. I just said I’m having a hard time finding someone on these apps who I’m attracted to.”

“Well, you’ve seen my pictures. It sounds like you already know I’m not what you’re looking for physically.”

“There’s only one tiny picture.”

“Actually, there are four or five very clear pictures from various angles. And to be honest, I would never go on a date with someone who told me he only dated models."

Cue feminist rant. At this point, he has pushed me past the point of being nice and polite and, while I probably should have hung up, I do enjoy a good feminist argument. I tell him off and hang up on him.

You would think he would be done by this point, but he attempts to call back three times. I decline each time. He then starts to text me angrily, and it culminates in this:

Cheers to you too, Beau. I finally blocked him, but I will admit that exchange left me feeling vulnerable. I had tears in my eyes as I texted Diana in distress. His negging hadn’t scored him a date, but it had achieved the real objective: to bring me down a notch.

But then, maybe two weeks later, you would never believe who had set up a brand new profile on the same dating app and gifted me with a little heart. “Shut. Up,” I said to myself. A truly sane female would have swiped left and moved along. Not this girl. I was ready for a fight.

And we’re going in…

This part gets cut off, but he admits that he has a “difficult” personality. Difficult? That’s a generous characterization, Beau.

And then I unmatched him. Mic drop…ehhhh, not exactly. I mean, I got a little corny in the end. But I came out of that exchange feeling much better, and that’s really all that matters.

Beau, who might be borderline sociopathic as evidenced by his continued harassment even after I told him I wasn’t interested, has likely been trying this pre-negging tactic for some time without success. Perhaps the ladies of San Francisco were not quite as savvy as the average NYC lass and fell for his “I only date models” claim?

Welcome to NYC, Beau, where negging don’t fly.