I’m kinda seeing this guy, and I’m loath to use the word “dating” because it can hardly be considered that. He called me three times yesterday, and I didn’t answer any of the calls because I was legitimately busy/it was inconvenient, and he didn’t leave a message so I figured it really wasn’t that important.
I have voicemail for a reason, it’s so that when you call me, and invariably can’t reach me because I’m not paying attention or I can’t find my phone in time, you can get the message through and I’ll call you back – at my convenience, of course – if the case warrants it.
He’s a huge fan of calling, and not leaving a message, and I’m an equally big fan of not playing childish games.
Anyway, he called again this morning and caught me while I was catching up on my RSS feeds and said that he wanted to “hang out later”.
What the fuck does that mean?! Is it a date? Are we just chillaxing as friends, inquiring minds want to know. He didn’t really make it clear, but we agreed to meetup at Starbucks, obviously he picks the lone downtown Starbucks location that I’ve never been to, and not one of the two that my apartment is situated between for convenience sake.
We were supposed to meet at six but due to technical difficulties, aka. I couldn’t find a particular artist on my iPod because they’re actually listed under the ‘H’ section, and not ‘A’ as I had incorrectly assumed, I stopped on my way out to sync my iPod.
It wasn’t a huge deal, since I’m a fast walker and I live less than ten blocks from where we were meeting. I rolled up at 6:03 and he’s not outside, or inside for that matter. I went on twitter to vent about it, caught up on the posts I missed on tumblr on the walk over, and finally called him.
He’s running late, but didn’t call, because he’s a manchild and completely incapable of picking up a phone when it counts.
“I’m almost there he explained casually,” without a hint of remorse on his breath. He finally got there, and went in for a kiss, but I turned my cheek and went for the hug instead. “Let me buy you a drink to make up for it,” he offers, but I politely declined.
We got up to the counter, and I changed my mind, as I’m wont to do, and I ask for a passion tea lemonade. My phone kept ringing and buzzing and I was mega distracted so I didn’t notice what he ordered, but I saw the male barista preparing a blended drink, and put two and two together.
My manfriend had ordered a Frappuccino.
As Liz Lemon would say:
“S. That. D. Shut It Down. Dealbreaker.”
In reality, I was just a little miffed, but it was getting to the point where every little thing he said or did, set me on edge. He was talking too loud, that stupid iced beverage, the lateness, my general unease with the whole relationship…
I made up some excuse about still having a migraine (sort of true) and not being up for whatever he had planned. He offered to drive me home, I declined because I was being difficult and he said he’d call me later.
I walked home and bought bus tickets at 7-Eleven, did a bit of laundry and had a girls night in with my friends Jacquie and Amanda which involved a lot of wine, barbecued salmon, and forgettable chick flicks playing in the background of an intense round of Truth or Dare Jenga and Taboo, since they were the only two games in the living room and we’re all pretty lazy.
It was an early night, maybe we’ll plan something more exciting tomorrow. I need to make use of what little free time I have left, because it’s looking like I might be employed again soon.