I decided to make last night a dinner & a movie night, making a homemade spaghetti & meat sauce and putting on one of my faves You’ve Got Mail. (Based on one of my favourite plays, Parfumerie by
Miklos Laszlo… written in 1937 and has been turned into three different movies over the years, the latest being the Hanks/Ryan classic… anyway. See the play if you get a chance. And with that… I digress.)
But of course, the movie brings us into the then-new world of online dating… so to get into the spirit of things, while I watched I went online myself to see if I had any messages from one of the fellas I’ve been chatting with. One of whom, 48 hours ago, asked me out for a coffee.
To which I responded Yes. I suggest a place and time.
To which he wrote back saying that he’s actually very busy and has decided to take a break from dating for a while. BUT! I shouldn’t be offended because “online dating is a numbers game”.
WTF?! Was I not supposed to have agreed to coffee? Should I not have had the nerve to suggest a spot to meet and time?? Was that supposed to be his job? Uuugghh…. BUT! Then I get a note from another fellow, who I asked out for a drink and he said he was game. We’d go out Saturday night (which is tonight). Hooray! Jerk from before kicked to the proverbial curb with new date plans. I go to bed happy, hopeful and with (to paraphrase a line from the movie) “the dream that there is someone else”.
Well, guess what kids.
He just bailed too. Why? Because he’d rather go home and go to bed after work.
I just got dumped for a fucking nap.
So! I am going to take the bottle of wine I just bought, pour myself a glass and then I’m going to Popeye’s for dinner. Because I can. And then I will tell Cupid where to stick it. (I might pick up some Tums too, digestion isn’t as good as it used to be.)