I had a date last night.
I almost cancelled at the last minute.
Why I hear you cry? (Even if it's you, singular and I know who you are)
Because the man in question seemed reluctant to furnish me with his phone number.
We've been exchanged emails for a while. He contacted me at the beginning of the summer right when I was about to embark on an 8 week vacation, so I said I'd be in touch on my return.
Emails ensued when I got back state side and we arranged to meet. Now I am not one to talk on the phone with a potential suitor so didn't need to call him, but getting to a place on time is no mean feat and sometimes I just can't manage it. Before you start with me on the passive aggressive nature of lateness, let me assure you that I know all about it. And then some. Getting out of one's home on time when one is just one is like falling off a log. Getting out of the house when there's a babysitter and two little children involved is hardly an exact science.
So, "please text me your number" was my plea. But a text came there not. I asked again to no avail. Once we finalised the destination, I asked a third time for his number, with the assurance that I was not the stalking type in case that was his concern. But again, nothing. It occurred to me that I'd actually asked for it three times and so I started to get a bit anxious that there was a sinister plot behind his refusal to give up the digits.
You peeps don't know me from a bar of soap, but suffice it to say that I am not the anxious type. I've taken on many a "Hooksexups of steel" type project without so much as a missed night of sleep, but this little episode was bringing out the paranoid in me.
See, I've heard of tales of Internet dates when one party walks into the bar, takes a shufty at their date and promptly turns on their heel and walks out. Luckily, this has never happened to me, but just in case I always call as I am nearing the venue to check that my date has arrived. I've developed this habit of calling as I walk into the bar. My date is then on the phone and more easily identifiable. It saves me scanning the bar for a man that's not there with the feeling that I've got a dirty great "I'm on a blind date" sign on my back. Plus, once in a while I keep talking on the phone even as I am standing next to the man in question because I'm juvenile like that.
And beyond that, as mentioned, there's always the possibility that I am 15 minutes late and I like to give my date a heads up, just in case he's the nervous type.
My day yesterday was hectic. I worked in the morning, did all kinds of house maintenance projects in the afternoon (the perils of being a landlord) and then cooked dinner for my kids. By the time I started contemplating getting ready, I was exhausted and had this weird feeling that I was going to get stood up. I just didn't have the energy for what could've been my first "I've been stood up" ever, so I wrote one last border-line snippy email saying something like "I am really not comfortable meeting you without getting your phone number first. Please text me or I am going to have to cancel". It was kind of formal and not "me" at all.
30 minutes later a call came in: "Sorry I didn't send it earlier. Completely slipped my mind. See you at 7.30".
I felt like a chump.
Very nice chap too.
Anyway Date Machine divas and dudes, how do you feel about meeting someone without a phone number and have you ever been stood up?
So, he's not always my cup of tea, but Brad Pitt in Fight Club is pretty spectacular. There's that scene when he's at a cosmetics counter and his pants are sitting really low, showing his hip bones...
The obligatory back catalogue:
Asymmetrical Knobbage
Cunning Linguist Cunnilingus
Fabulous at 40
Winehouse Reveals
The Chick Facial File
Mirrors
Confession plus Daily Knob!
Abusive?
Celebrity Confessions: Boy George
Dick Trilogy Part 3
MORE dicks in my inbox
Dicks in your inbox
Read my Sodding Profile!
Hooksexup Confessions: Herpes
The Queen Confesses
The Arse Man Cometh
The Ass Play Chronicles
The Sandwich Blowjob Porn Connection
Bangin Ass
Deformed Dicks
Did I really dream that?
Why I don't date Celebrities
Fashionably late or just a slacker