so, my date-that-wasn't-a-date, no matter what I wanted to call it, didn't happen. His hotelmate tells me he's left before 7:00pm for our 8:30pm dinner. I got there early, to discover that the cheap, hole-in-the-wall, cute East Village Thai place is gone, only replaced by a generic euro-trash Italian bistro thing! So, standing in front of the place for the next 45-50 minutes, when I finally gave up, my pal Marc had left a message on my machine. So, Maargeritas (the extra a is for the extra saalt; the other spelling errors are from the tequila, I would imagine) but i digress.... When I did get home, a series of four new messages tell me he somehow got in a cab in midtown, on his way to the Lower East Side, and wound up in Harlem. Getting to the restaurant aroudn 9:15 (1st call)(over 2 hours?) he couldnt find me, waited another hour (2nd call), then (3rd call just before he) gets a cab in a torrential rainstorm in Manhattan on a Friday night, and makes it to his hotel in 20 minutes (4th call); Too bad he didn't have that driver on his way TO
dinner. Too tired to write more, I'm gonna have this beer, read other
blogs, and hope that someone who forgot my birthday (the last time I had a date was 2 days before my last birthday, which was 4 months, 2 weeks, and 2 days ago, not that anyone's counting), sees this
and wants to make me a very happy fellow.....