Well. Minutes after I published my previous blog and was almost out the door, my date for tonight sent me a text letting me know he had to cancel for the 2nd time this week. HE CANCELLED. AGAIN!! MY LEGS WERE SHAVED! NEW UNDERWEAR WAS PURCHASED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Goddamnit.
So, what have I done for the past couple of hours you ask? Well, after learning that my date was no longer happening I posed the WWGSD* question. (* What Would Gloria Steinem Do?) And I decided that Gloria would say fuck it and go to dinner anyway. So! I did.
If this were a scene out of the sitcom that is my life, it was perfectly cast. Cool restaurant, filled with lots of people… with your semi-defeated heroine (me!) seated at the bar and quickly served by a very cute bartender. Learning of my situation, we decided a glass of wine was necessary and did not count in my month of non-drinking because this was an emergency situation. (I believed he referred to it as “miracle juice”.) A plate of baby back ribs and fries was ordered. Hey, if I was going to drown my sorrows, it was gonna be in wine and meat. May as well go big and then go home by yourself at a reasonable hour, I say!
While I wanted to cry while my yummy ribs were served, there is no crying while eating yummy ribs. Luckily for me, my bartender Braeden was a wise one… he told me that there was no use getting upset over the guy. He clearly wasn’t worth my time.
And obviously this guy was not, this was the 2nd time he’d cancelled on me in a week (as I mentioned before). And while he suggested we try to book this again, I decided to employ the “two strikes and this is over” rule. I don’t want to get my hopes up over meeting you again, dude… I have tiny arms. It’s hard to keep hopes up when you have tiny arms. They get tired easily.
At times I have to wonder what the Universe is trying to tell me. Did a signal go out tonight when I proclaimed I was happy and anxious for my date? Did Cupid send a memo out letting people know my content attitude had to be put to a stop?! Is Cupid trying to tell me I should switch teams?! Is the man I’m to be with just REALLY FUCKING GOOD AT NOT BEING SEEN?!?!?! (bangs head on desk) At this point I’d not be surprised if a cardboard cutout of a handsome gent stood me up. (I’m assuming that text would read “Sorry I have to cancel, it’s raining and I disintegrated.”)
My lovely bartender offered me a drink on the house. As we agreed, if I was going to break my non-booze streak I may as well do it up right. And… it was an emergency. So I broke that glass box and downed my second drink before heading home! I allowed myself to cry a little bit as I walked to the subway. But I laughed when I noticed a friend post that song Circle of Life on my Facebook page after I mentioned how my day started with the thrill of an article I wrote being published in The Toronto Star & ended with my being alone at a bar. (“Cue the Circle of Life”, I wrote.)
It’s always something, the lovely Gilda Radner once said… and it’s true! It’s always something. And at least I have my friends who will get to Google quickly and post songs from the Lion King on my FB wall in an emergency. 😉
(Pictured above: The “in case of romantic emergency” dinner and drink plan- baby back ribs, shoestring fries and “miracle juice”)