Or maybe it was the most fabulously horrible Friday night in history.
In either case, I definitely need a cancel-ectomy.
Let me explain.
A friend emailed me last Monday to say that he missed me so desperately and would love to cook me dinner anytime that week.
He was begging. He even asked if I have any food allergies.
I immediately replied, “OK, how about Friday?” But he didn’t respond!
Two days later, I emailed him, “Please let me know if Friday’s OK, so I can make other plans.”
Again, not a word! What a rude asshole! It was his idea! I made other plans.
Fortunately, there was a backup in motion because another friend was urging me to come with her to a gallery show on Friday.
We agreed that I would contact her that day if I wanted to go and we’d do so.
On Friday, I emailed her. I texted her. No answer. Huh?
Fifteen minutes before the gallery show was over, she finally shot back, “Sorry, I was in Brooklyn all day and didn’t charge my phone. Just got home. Oh, well. Hope you went. Let’s definitely see the movie.”
What movie? And by the way, no way!
By now, I was ready for a straitjacket, but I knew for sure that two other friends (“Jeff” and “Fred”) were going to be at a certain gay lounge at 11 and then we’d all go to a dance club at 11:30.
I obediently went to the lounge at 11:03. I called Jeff and asked, “Are you in here?” “No,” he said. “Fred canceled. But we’ll all meet at [the dance club].”
Oy. I rode around in circles for 20 minutes, then dragged my ass to the dance club.
Turned out Jeff was there, but not Fred. We really couldn’t go in without Fred, since the whole point was to take him and some boyfriend of his in and show them a good time.
I waited till 11:38, by which point I was so over it I momentarily forgot about the dinner and the gallery-show debacles. There was no word from Fred.
“Please don’t stand in front of the police station, Michael,” said a security guard as I dutifully waited. “They get mad.” At least he knew my name.
I went far away from the station, in fact. Amazed at having been stood up four times in one night, I rode off to the Village.
So why was this fabulous?
Because I didn’t really want to do any of these things!!
I thought I was doing them a favor!