We've all had our fair share of crummy dates and over time I have learned to appreciate my own for what they truly are: perfect kick starts to endless conversions full of laughs and wine. Good times. Maybe not at the moment, but soon thereafter, oh yeah, GREAT TIMES.
Last summer, after a string of particularly crummy dates, I hit the motherload. The crummy date as no date. In other words, the no-show. Me. Bistro 990 waiting and waiting. I ordered wine. And then more wine. And then I said, between gulps of wine, screw you, asshole - I'm at Bistro 990, bring me the mussels! Anyway, the evening ended up as well as it could : the lovely folks at Bistro took pity on me and comped my entire feel good fiesta; I called saviour J on the way home and venomously tore this dude to shreds over a double dose of deliciousness at Ed's Real Scoop and I promised myself not to give this guy a second thought. That went .. not great. But, eventually, you pick it up dust it off and live to tell another tale ..
Well, today, an email: "Hey - thinking about you and thought I'd reach out and say hi". I'd love to think that it took him 7 long months to properly punish himself for his behaviour (I'm thinking Paul Bettany in The Da Vinci Code) but realistically, he's obviously just dumb. I wish I could do something painful to him, but I'm just not that vindictive and he's clearly not worth the jail time. Mostly, though, I wish this email didn't take me back to that crappy place I was at last summer, throughout that night (wine, mussels and ice cream aside) and the probably too long time afterwards where I felt completely useless and unwanted and lost and, yes, alone.
So, dude, you'd like to reach out ? Well, reach out to this : Fuck you.
No comments:
Post a Comment