Result of Date: Stood Up and Steaming
It was supposed to be our third date. Late night drinks and maybe a movie. But I wound up sitting at a restaurant alone for almost 3 hours, writing in my journal and having two drinks. Did I mention that I was alone? How did that happen? Well…
Wednesday night Pancake Man met me at Buffalo Wild Wings for dinner. I had a pretty good time and we had a nice long talk. In fact, after we left the restaurant we wound up talking in the parking lot until like 12:30. Obviously, I enjoyed the conversation (otherwise I would have gone home), but I was really tired by the end of the night.
Anyway, he meandered around to almost asking me if I wanted to go out again on Friday night. (And I’m realizing he’s never directly asked me out on a date he just makes a series of annoying non-concrete suggestions and says stuff like, “Well, let me know if you want to do something next week.” It’s like saying, “You can go ahead and ask me on a date if you want.” It’s so passive and lame — wussy. Why can’t men just ask a girl a straight question nowadays? “How about drinks Friday night at nine?” Is that so freaking hard? Anyway, more about that in an upcoming post.)
Once we were on the topic of Friday night I let him know that I have dinner plans with my parents most Friday nights, but they’re old so by 8 p.m. I’m usually done. He had plans to go to the fair with his sister and his niece on Friday night but said he could do something afterward (again, he didn’t ask me if I would please do something with him at a specific time, but suggested if I wanted to ask him we could. So exhausting.)
I told him that it depended how late it would be and he said he didn’t want to be out too late with his 18-month-old niece and I got 9 p.m. out of the convo. Again, he didn’t say anything concrete, but in order to make a plan a girl has to start somewhere so I stuck nine in my brain and decided to be flexible about it — you know nine thirty, maybe ten.
Honestly, I was sort of planning to cancel on him because nine is usually my cut-off point. I mean if I’m not out by 9 I’m not going out. Plus, I was sick of all the lame, diaphanous planning and my friend Sarah was maybe going to be in town. But Friday afternoon Pancake Man started a text conversation that I kind of wanted to finish in person. So, I figured I’d try to stay up late enough to have the convo over drinks that night.
9 p.m. — you can do this, Crystal. Okay, let’s do it!
Friday at five he texted me to “have fun” with my parents and said to text him when I was done — “if you want.” (Seriously? He can’t even confidently manage a “please text me” request?) But I took it as him being eager to talk to me and honestly, I kind of assumed that he might try to leave the fair as soon as he knew I was available.
I wound up working late and missed dinner with my parents. I saw them briefly but by 8 p.m. (as I suspected) they were getting ready for bed. So I went home. I think I sent him a text asking if he was still at the fair. No answer. After sitting on my couch for 20 minutes I was falling asleep. So, in an effort to be awake to see Pancake Man at 9, I left the house. I took a few things to work on and headed to Applebee’s figuring it would be an okay place for us to meet up when he was done at the fair. (Plus, they are open till 1 p.m. if we got talking and went late.)
When I got to Applebee’s around 8:30 I sent him a text. (This is where I insert the disclaimer that I don’t have a perfect memory, and the messages aren’t still in my phone so I’m not completely sure what I said when, but these are the basics) I let him know where I was and that he could meet me there when he was done. Again, no answer.
About ten to nine he said he was still at the fair and would text me when he was done. I was still thinking he would probably be done around nine. So I thought I might see him by 9:30. But, by 9:30 he wasn’t there and I hadn’t heard from him. I was also almost done with the project I was working on and I had had 2 drinks so I was getting sleepy.
So I sent him a message to the effect of: Fair warning, I’m not going to be out much longer.
Fifteen minutes later texted me back (finally) and said something like: that sucks I’m still at the fair but we’re almost done. I understand if your wiped out.
And I started to get pissed. It’s not that I’m tired, dude It’s that I have no reason to be out by myself except to wait for you. (Okay, to be fair, I didn’t actually tell him that. That was on the inside.)
But I did say, “I’m not cancelling, I’m just saying that if you want to see me you had better hurry.”
And I got a more passive-aggressive crap from him. And I told him around 10 p.m. that I wouldn’t be there in a half an hour if I was alone. At about 10:30 he said he was on his way and I said I was on my way home.
He eventually asked me how mad I was and I said I would tell him when I had gotten some sleep. And then he launched into this huge contrite string of texts asking how he could make it up to me.
In one he even said, “Candy? Flowers?” Yes, please send me flowers and then tomorrow I’ll feel better when I get the flowers I ordered from you. (Note the sarcasm, please.) Honestly, maybe getting flowers would have made me feel better. But telling him to send me flowers and then getting them would NOT.
I didn’t know what to tell him and the more he prodded me about it the more pissed I was. But I’m mad at myself more than anything. I shouldn’t have put myself in a position where I was waiting for a man. I should have just stayed home watching Criminal Minds, fallen asleep on my couch and told him it was too late when he let me know he was done at the fair. I had let him know that was a possibility when we first talked about doing something.
Last night he tried to text me about it again and as soon as I saw his text I was pissed again. (Maybe I was pissed because it was a text. He still hasn’t actually called me on the phone. Or maybe I was pissed because it was 7 p.m. before I heard from him. Or maybe I‘m just an emotional whirlwind — you know, a girl.)
Anyway, I decided to be totally honest and let him know that I was upset and I didn’t know how long I would be upset and I didn’t know what he could do to make me less upset. He said he didn’t know how to make up for it and he didn’t know how to keep me from being upset. And I didn’t know what to tell him.
The conversation dissolved from there (although I did mention that maybe he should have called me rather than just texting me about all of it).
Anyway, this morning, I think finally figured out what I should have told him on Friday night when he asked me what he could do to make it up to me: “I don’t know but you should try to do something.” (Although, I did tell him to ask his sister for advice.) The thing is, asking me is a cop out because I’m not going to tell you that you need to take me out to dinner or buy me something pretty. Gestures don’t count in the same way when I have to ask you to do them. Use your brain. Think of something and do it. Don’t be a chicken, put yourself out there.
Further break down of the situation: I don’t know what I should do now. Should being stood up be a deal-breaker for me? I mean I think I know what happened. He didn’t want to tell me he wasn’t going to make it and he didn’t want to tell his sister that he had to leave. But he really should have done one of those things. And I think I might need a man with enough of a backbone to do one of those things when he gets himself in that kind of a situation.
Plus, he’s probably going to read this blog and be pissed at me. But I have to get this out of me and send it out into the Universe so that I’m not turning it around in my brain anymore.
Oh…and one last thing: for the record, men, text message apologies don’t really count for much. They’re kind of cowardly too and we feel obligated to accept them even though they feel less then genuine.
P.S. I actually had a pretty good evening on Friday night up until I realized that I was getting stood up. That put a pretty big damper on it. (Made me feel rejected and unimportant and all those sorts of things.) But honestly, I probably would have spent the night in the same way if I hadn’t had plans with the Pancake Man. However, I would have gone to bed happy instead of pissed.