Monday, October 30, 2006
I suppose it was bound to happen, eventually. Every one goes through it, at one time or another. At least, any one who's on the market for any length of time.
I got stood up.
And we're not talking one of those corny, "I'm sorry, my grandmother's uh... sick... yeah... she's sick," and then he goes slinking off to the game with his buddies. We're talking the classic no-call, no-show. Didn't even deign to make an appolagy until late the following evening, and that came by email.
It probably wouldn't have bothered me in the least, had I not been looking so forward to it. We'd been out to coffee before, which spilled into a leisurely lunch and a few hours of engaging conversation. That was about a month ago - our schedules just didn't line up. So finally we work it out that we can meet up for dinner last week, but neither wanted to nail down a place.
After a long and drawn-out back-and-forth, where he was cheerfully unwilling to offer suggestions, and I was ridiculously indecisive (not unusual, when it comes to me and food), I made the call the night before, and shot him an email with the time, place, and my phone number - just in case he'd lost it in a blizzard or something.
I rushed home on date-night, a fire lit under my ass to shave enough time out to get cleaned up and changed, and low and behold, the boy hadn't responded to my email. Being the thorough young lady that I am (and thinking that with his terrible internet connection, perhaps he hadn't been able to get the note), I called - three times. Three times, I got the annoying beep-beep of a busy line. I sighed, set the phone down, and looked at my watch. We were supposed to meet up in ten minutes.
The question was, did I drive down there and sit and wait, hoping he just hadn't reponded due to time constrictions, and risk looking like Little Miss Lonlihearts, or did I blow it off, and risk beng the one standing him up? I figured without a response on his part, I was under no obligation to show up, and figured he had the number, and he could call if he found I wasn't there. It was, after all, a mere five minute drive from my apartment, and about two from his (chosen more for location than ambiance, I'm afraid - what can I say? I'm a hopeless romantic).
So as a last act of courtesy, I shot him another email, saying that I'd called and hadn't gotten an answer, so I wasn't going to sit and wait, and that was that. Slight blow to my ego, for sure.
Can't get a standing ovation all the time, I guess...