I recently had a blind date set up to meet with a boy (yes, I'm going to call him a boy) that I was conversing with sporadically for the past month on one of those oh-so-lovely online dating sites. This particular guy was out of state for work for the duration of our conversations and so our conversations were not lengthy or consistent in nature. I didn't know much about him but when he asked if I wanted to meet, I jumped at the chance.
Okay. Okay. I'll tell the truth. I didn't so much jump at the chance ... it was more like dipping the tiniest portion of skin into the water to make sure it was at least tepid before jumping in. But I did touch the proverbial toe to the water and agreed to meet him for a drink at a local dive bar.
There were a few days between when the plan was made and the actual meeting so we exchanged numbers. We participated in some "flexting" (flirty texting for those of you who had to look it up like me) and shared last names. With the sharing of last names comes Facebook stalking (don't look so shocked, we all do it!). It all pointed to being a good blind date especially after vetting the guy with a mutual-ish friend.
Then the day of the blind date arrived. I held strong throughout the morning but come afternoon I started to participate in the Getting Ready for a Blind Date ritual. You know ... showering, picking out an outfit, texting your friends to say you don't want to go, picking out a new outfit, convincing yourself you aren't going to vomit, picking out another new outfit, and, finally leaving. I already went into detail about the drive to the date in a previous post, so I won't go there.
Let's fast forward a bit ...
You arrive and grab a seat at the bar a few minutes prior to meeting time so you aren't playing the deer in headlights when you walk in. You order a drink and you start to wait, looking calm and collect and trying not to stare a hole in the center of your phone.
And you wait. The clock now says 5 minutes past when you are supposed to meet. You decide he must just be running late and you text your friend to confirm. They agree and tell you to wait a little longer, I'm sure he'll be there any second they say.
And you wait. Now it is 10 minutes past when you are supposed to wait. You nervously look around the bar to see if anybody else is sitting alone. You pray that the creepy guy across the bar is not the one waiting for you, but soon someone joins him. You make small talk with the buzzed lady next to you as you pretend you know anything about the Women's World Cup.
And you wait. After waiting for 20 minutes you decide to leave. After 20 minutes, your blind date is no longer late, they are just not coming. You have officially been stood up at the bar.
There could be a billion reasons why someone doesn't show up for a date. They get lost, get into an accident, come in and turn around when they see you. Or in my particular case, they take a nap and over sleep.
Turns out the boy (see why I say boy???) you were going to meet wasn't the kind of stand up guy you wanted him to be.
My final thoughts for the day - never underestimate the importance of an alarm clock!
Okay. Okay. I'll tell the truth. I didn't so much jump at the chance ... it was more like dipping the tiniest portion of skin into the water to make sure it was at least tepid before jumping in. But I did touch the proverbial toe to the water and agreed to meet him for a drink at a local dive bar.
There were a few days between when the plan was made and the actual meeting so we exchanged numbers. We participated in some "flexting" (flirty texting for those of you who had to look it up like me) and shared last names. With the sharing of last names comes Facebook stalking (don't look so shocked, we all do it!). It all pointed to being a good blind date especially after vetting the guy with a mutual-ish friend.
Then the day of the blind date arrived. I held strong throughout the morning but come afternoon I started to participate in the Getting Ready for a Blind Date ritual. You know ... showering, picking out an outfit, texting your friends to say you don't want to go, picking out a new outfit, convincing yourself you aren't going to vomit, picking out another new outfit, and, finally leaving. I already went into detail about the drive to the date in a previous post, so I won't go there.
Let's fast forward a bit ...
You arrive and grab a seat at the bar a few minutes prior to meeting time so you aren't playing the deer in headlights when you walk in. You order a drink and you start to wait, looking calm and collect and trying not to stare a hole in the center of your phone.
And you wait. The clock now says 5 minutes past when you are supposed to meet. You decide he must just be running late and you text your friend to confirm. They agree and tell you to wait a little longer, I'm sure he'll be there any second they say.
And you wait. Now it is 10 minutes past when you are supposed to wait. You nervously look around the bar to see if anybody else is sitting alone. You pray that the creepy guy across the bar is not the one waiting for you, but soon someone joins him. You make small talk with the buzzed lady next to you as you pretend you know anything about the Women's World Cup.
And you wait. After waiting for 20 minutes you decide to leave. After 20 minutes, your blind date is no longer late, they are just not coming. You have officially been stood up at the bar.
There could be a billion reasons why someone doesn't show up for a date. They get lost, get into an accident, come in and turn around when they see you. Or in my particular case, they take a nap and over sleep.
Turns out the boy (see why I say boy???) you were going to meet wasn't the kind of stand up guy you wanted him to be.
My final thoughts for the day - never underestimate the importance of an alarm clock!
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