Stood Up

Internet, I've been stood up.

It's hard to tell why. The official explanation, offered 30 minutes before the date was slated to begin, was: "something came up". But because of the Dubai Man debacle, I don't give out my phone number any more. AND, since I still don't have an iPhone or Blackberry or Triage (Treo? Tree-o?), I didn't get the cancellation email until after I'd waited for over an hour at the cafe and finally headed home. LAME.

Luckily, I'm quite skilled at hanging out at cafes on my own. I'd brought a book my friend The Lawyer had loaned me - Gang Leader for a Day, by Sudhir Venkatesh - which was so fascinating that it took me 20 minutes to even realize that Hearratio P. Stand-Up was late. Also, we're in the midst of those glorious three days of Toronto Spring when it's no longer the shit-end of winter (wherein the heavens spit down angry sleet like a disgusted Polish Babcia presented with substandard pierogi) AND not yet the (oh-god-kill-me-now steam-bath sweat-drenched) scorching Toronto summer. A breezy sun-soaked hour on the patio at La Crema with arguably the world's greatest latte in hand and something good to read is not an hour misspent.

But back to the stand up. Even though I didn't have a horrible time waiting around for the no-show, 30 minutes does strike me as awfully late notice. Possibly even rude? I suppose I expected an explanation more involved than "something came up". Something more along the lines of "family emergency" or "car trouble" or "I'm terrified of meeting a total stranger for a cup of coffee." Am I being too anal? I realize that if I hadn't been so paranoid about the providing-my-phone number-to-potential-psychos issue, this guy could've just called me. But even then - EVEN THEN - I think I'd still be a little bit annoyed.

On the other hand, my Office Drone milk-bag complexion now has a tannish hue. Plus, I've made some excellent progress on my ongoing internal Crips vs. Bloods debate. I really do think I look better in the blue.