Don't Fuck with MySpace

Part of me felt relieved. Part of me felt humiliated. The MySpace date never showed up. Walking to the bar, I scanned the nearby sidewalks hoping to catch a glimpse of this mystery man or to see if he was doing the same. I walked into the bar. It was empty. He wasn’t late yet, so I got a vodka tonic and hid in the corner. I perked up at every person who walked in hopes that it were him and this nervous anticipation would end. But he never came. I went to the film screening anyway, but I sat there amidst a sold out audience feeling like such a fool.

And then I wondered why I had been in such a rush to start dating. And I remembered how many times I’ve felt like a fool and how many times I’ve probably made others feel like a fool. And I remembered waiting two hours for The Brother the week before and how silly I felt then. And how I watched Bridget Jones this weekend, and she didn’t need guys, “to make [her] feel like a complete idiot…. [she] already feels like an idiot most of the time anyway.”

So this morning I came into the office and decided that I would write a curt-unpsycho email to say that I hadn’t appreciated his actions and that there were so many other ways he could have gotten out of the date if he’d wanted to. He had my number, and I didn’t have his.

Last week he asked when I could grab drinks… I mentioned the documentary on Sunday and that I was available Tuesday or Thursday of this week. He then asked if he could join me on Sunday as his friend was coming into town on Monday & Tuesday.

Waiting in my In-Box as of Saturday early afternoon was an email from him. His friend was coming into town on Sunday evening instead of Monday. He asked if I was still available on Thursday because he’d like to go out then.

I’m not mature enough to let this miscommunication go, so I emailed him back and said that I’d just made plans for Thursday. I didn’t suggest another time. I didn’t ask any questions. I didn’t or don’t want an email back, and I think my tone suggested so. I just took last night as a sign from our Fucked the Fuck Up’d God that this was just not going to happen. It was a reminder to chill the Fuck out.

And to my fellow circle of women who’ll be going on 2 dates before the end of the year. That was one down – one to go for Miss Curious… because ‘sorta’ getting stood up was still putting myself out on the line. That's that.

NEW NEWS:

I POSTED THE ABOVE A LITTLE WHILE AGO... SINCE THEN, HE SENT ME THE EMAIL BELOW... I'M STILL VERY HESITANT TO GO... AND, HE GOT STOOD UP? THAT PROBABLY MEANS HE DOES THIS THING A LOT AND IS DESPERATE... I MEAN, I'M A VIRGIN AT THIS!!! WHAT SHOULD I DO?!?! SAY YES - NO?


i'm so sorry. i hadn't heard back from you, so i was wondering if
you had gotten my email. i actually got stood up last week. so, i
know how you feel, for real.
my friend is in town until tomorrow, so after that i'm fairly open.
sorry about that last night. i hope the movie was good. let me know
when is good for you...
-jon