(this was previously published on my MySpace Profile)
Color me aggravated. Sometimes I wonder why I do it.
By “it” I mean online dating. Besides the obvious fact that if I didn’t do it I’d proabalby never get laid again (yeah I’m THAT bad at meeting women) I am starting to reconsider the whole online dating thing.
I set up a date with a seemingly interesting and possibly attractive woman this weekend at Mozart’s Coffee. A cool little coffee shop on Lake Austin with great views and uncomfortable outdoors bench seating.
As usual I exchange cell phone numbers. Handy if one party is late or lost.
Earlier in the week we had agreed on 10 AM Sunday and that she would call Saturday evening to confirm and to get directions. She didn’t.
Sunday at 9 I call her and get voicemail. Fortunately she called back 10 minutes later and asked to move the time to 11, about 90 minutes from then.
So I get there about 10:50 so that I might grab a beverage and snag a seat with a good view of the entrance. There is a group of young women having a sunday morning gab fest and a couple with a baby down on the lower level throwing the remnants of their snack in the lake much to the delight of the fish, turtles and the ducks. All in all a very nice morning.
11AM Arrives and I am noticing the hard, uncomfortable bench seats.
11:10AM and the hard, uncomfortable bench seats are starting to lose out over annoyance.
“OK if I don’t see her by 11:15 I’ll call.”
11:15AM I get her voicemail… WTF?
I leave a message describing exactly where I am and what I am wearing and ask her to call me if she is lost.
11:28AM several possibilities turned out to already have a life and as such are not, in fact, my date. In disgust I rise, make a quick run thru the indoor seeting area, just in case she is there and I missed her the first time.
Nope, not there.
So I head to my car, flip open my phone and yes, it is her voicemail again. I tell her that I am leaving.
20 minutes later I am almost home and the phone rings. As I am too annoyed to talk civily (and because I drive a stick) I let it go to a voicemail.
At home I listen to the voicemail
it is my date telling me that at 11:20 she was in the restaurant [ED NOTE: next door] with the blue and white lighthouse. Realizing her error (I guess it takes 20 minutes to read the sign with the name of the place) she called Mozarts but the guy who answered had a long line and was too busy to page me. Giving up on that she walked over and there was a guy there, she called my name but he did not look up. “…so I guess it wasn’t you…” yadda yadda yadda.
At this point my head explodes and my hair catches on fire and I almost throw my phone thru a wall.
-Doesn’t she realize she is in the wrong place for 20 minutes?
-Doesn’t she think to walk 20 feet to the correct establishment, you know the one that has MOZARTS in big bold script on the front of the building?
-Doesn’t she call to say she is late and or lost?
-Doesn’t she call to see where I am?
-Doesn’t she answer her cell?
-Doesn’t see that she has a message waiting?
-Does she call Mozarts to have me paged instead of just calling me, or (I don’t know) maybe just walking over?
-Doesn’t she answer the phone a second time when I call to say I am leaving
-Does she call me almost an hour late wondering where I am.
I realize that I am better off not knowing and that attempting to find out the answers to all of these questions would only result in another cranial explosive conflagration. Maybe two.
One good thing about getting older. You start to learn when to cut your losses and just move on.
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