Y’know, I’m trying to think of something to write here and realizing that I’ve never been “stood up”, which is really weird considering all the other horrors of my dating life.
(I was reverse stood up once, though–see, I had scheduled a date with the woman who’s currently MrsZer, but then had to cancel because my job at the time was working at a sub shop, and the guy on-shift after me never showed up, and A) I was an assistant manager and B) I needed that damn paycheck, and the boss was the kinda guy who’d fire you for not instantly offering to cover a shift, the jackass. Anyway, so round about 10PM when I’m good and miserable and the store is dead, MrsZer shows up with a fresh-baked raspberry scone and sits there and chats with me for a few hours until I lock up the place at 1am.)
My love life has been such a string of disasters that I can’t even think of one of the less mundane stand-up excuses. I think “I decided to buy a house instead” goes right up there.
Instead, I’ll offer you another story: I was on the train one night and started talking to this woman. She soon got very flirtatious. It was clear that she wanted my hot beefy throbby goodness. When she got off the train, she told me her full name and where she worked, and told me to come see her any time.
So a few days later I went to see her. When I greeted her she was shocked – SHOCKED, I tells ya – that I would have the audacity to come see her. “How dare you? I’m a married woman!”
Every morning for about 5 years I stopped at the same mini-mart gas station for a coffee on my way to work. I live in a semi rural area and the choices were limited. Meaning this was the one and only place to stop between point A and B. Been known to stop there quite often on the way home to get cold frothy beverages for the evening on occasion too. But I digress.
There was a really cute girl who worked there for a long time. After a year or two of chit chatting when she would sometimes give me the coffee for free or she would linger giving me change I finally asked her out.
She called me at the last minute before I left my house to pick her up and said she couldn’t go. This was later in the day from when I saw her last. She had to go to bed early because she had a modeling gig first thing in the morning.
I had a date with this girl once. She called me up about two hours before we were supposed to meet to tell me that her boss had called her in to work.
She really hamed it up too, her voice was all shakey like she was about to cry. I really, felt bad for her at the time.
So me being the dumbassed Romeo I am; I went by Olive Garden (Which is where we were supposed to go that night) picked up her favorite meal to go, then stoped by her place of employment. (Kinko’s I think)
When I got there, I soon found out that my beloved gem of a girl was nowhere to be found. According to her boss, she had the night off!
So I asked him if he liked Olive Garden. He said yes. I gave HIM the meal and left!
I was about 15 and just beginning to date; the biggest crush of my life called my house and told my mother to tell me he couldn’t make it, that he had to get his lungs cleaned…
It didn’t inspire much confidence for the following years of dating life.
I had a blind date arranged by my Aunt. About an hour before I was to pick the girl up, she called with an elaborate story about how a city bus driver had shut the door too soon and had caught her arm in it and how her arm was broken so she couldn’t go out. I’ve always wondered just what thought process led her to that story.
I got a similar call, but about three days after the date was supposed to happen. He’d been drinking and doing all manner of drugs for about five days and had forgotten what day it was.
I had a date where we had arranged to meet after work for a drink and a light dinner. I waited and waited and waited. After two hours I left. She called the next day. “Sorry I didn’t show up. I forgot I had my daughter last night.” Riight.
I had a fairly significant other break up with me via e-mail because she knew that if we talked in person, I would have her back in my arms before too long. Should I have been flattered or not?
I was at my GF’s house one Friday evening, having regular BF/GF type fun (she was still living at home, Mom was there, so no naked stuff). We were all discussing how lovely the week and been and I suggested we all go out for a picnic the next day. Her, Mom, little sister, Me. Approvals all around.
Then, we had a nice supper. I was sitting on thr couch with her sitting on me when a diamond commercial came on TV. She asks me what type of diamond I thought she would like. I replied and was spot on right. She snuggles ever more so into me, smiling and muttering something happy sounding about couldn’t wait. My mind becomes a jumble as I realise that we really are that close to getting married. Pleased, but jumbled.
As I leave later that next early morning night, I ask what time we were thinking of for tomorrow (later today). She says 11:35.
Me: “11:35? What the hell kind of time is that?”
Her: “What the fuck is your problem? The time is 11:35. Just be on time!”
Me: “That’s an idiot time! You could’ve said 11:30-ish or between 11 and Noon, but no! You have to say 11:35. What the fuck kind of time is that!?”
Her: “11:35 is the time and that’s that!” SLAM!!!
Well. I decide to show her! I show up at her at PRECISELY 11:35. And she isn’t there!
FUCK!
Then it slowly comes back to me. Mom was worried about Little Sister’s allergies and we decided on seeing the new movie for that week at the early matinee. Then, we would just let the day take us to whatever else we did. I’m remembering now. The marraige stuff from the previous night had really jumbled my head apparantly. The time of the matinee? 11:35!
She obviously didn’t wait for me, but taught me a lesson. I went to the florist and got her mom some flowers, leaving it there on the porch, but holding one back. (She didn’t deserve whatever shit was going on that day between her daughter and I.)
About 3:00-ish, I come back and knock on the door. GF opens it and I put on my best adorable face, holding the one little flower out to her.
Despite herself, she softens into a smile and says, “I’m in love with a retard!”
For the next couple of years we were together, any misunderstanding about anything that happened was called an 11:35.
This was all well over a decade ago. I saw her at a restaurant recently, both of us with friends. I went over to say hi and she tells her friends, “This is my 11:35.”
