You, Sir, are a fucking asshole. I took two buses to get to Indigo, called you way too many times, and wound up sitting at the bar with my thumb up my ass, thanks for nothing, hope you had a great night…
I have been in this situation before, on the receiving end, of arriving at a bar / club / lounge / etc. to meet someone for the first time, and no one shows up. I made the requisite one phone call to check on his whereabouts and let him know that I had arrived. I perhaps became angry for about a minute. And then I began making friends around the bar. Much like I did last night, while I was waiting for a new friend to meet me at Indigo.
All right, I double-booked. That was rude. I admit that. But compare (as I do) the engaging conversation I was having with my new friend in The Green Room to the admittedly lacking conversation I had with this other fellow via mobile (e.g., “How are you? What did you do today?” “Just worked out.” *long pause* “Um ok and how was that?” “Tiring.” *long pause* “Ok then! What did you have for lunch?”), and I do not think anyone would fault me for missing his seventeen calls and three text messages. (Also? It’s The Green Room. You can’t hear shit in there after five o’clock, let alone your Gwen Stefani ring tone.)
Yes, the whole going-out-of-your-way-to-meet-someone thing is a pain. And, yes, you get pissed off if it does not work out. But there are fantastic people to meet at the bar (like I did, a lovely graduate student who was meeting friends who were far too late for her celebratory soirée) if said someone does not show up.
(Also, it helps to be at least vaguely interesting to begin with.)
So, I apologize, Two Buses To Indigo, for missing your calls and text messages and everything else. However, the text of your email reminds me why I do not like dating in general: the inability to deal with the changes that life may sometimes throw you, the inability to just flow with said changes, the idea that I would ever hook up with someone who would sit at a bar with his “thumb up his ass”, and profanity.
Particularly with the formal precursor of “Sir.”
Signed,
“Fucking Asshole”
Glad you ended up taking the high road on this. You do, after all, deserve to be verbally flogged, if not quartered. Were the situation reversed, neither you nor I would hold back our scathing commentary, which I am more than certain would contain far, far more profanity than his little message.
Yes, one should be able to enjoy themselves on their own. But who are we to inflict this lesson on others–especially by means of such unabashed lack of class? No, no, darling, such behavior is entirely beneath you and I am glad that you have made amends for it.
Here’s to the mistakes we’ll make in the future–may we be able to move through them as cleanly as you have here.
AV: Well, my dear, it does help to have a trusted someone like you around to remind us that eventually taking the high road will reflect far more class and strength of character than being outright rude.
Here’s to future mistakes, indeed!