I was wanting to see a certain woman from my past tonight. I ended up seeing Steve Carrell instead.
Over the past few weeks, I started talking to HM with regularity again. We fell out of touch due many factors, one being a bad night back in March when I met up with her and some of her friends at a club. Not to bore you with details, but a drunken rant written that night became the only (up to this point, anyway) private post on my myspace blog.
Yesterday, I called her up, asking how she was recovering from a night out with a co-worker of mine. HM was fine. Her friend, not so much. She told me she was going to be packing for a move today.
"If you're not too busy with packing tomorrow, do you wanna catch a movie?" I asked.
"Sure, I need to see if I can find a sitter," she replied.
Eager with the knowledge that my first date in months would be happening, I picked up around my place throughout the day. (And I still have cleaning to do, I'm quite slow when it comes to chores.) I called her at 3:30 to see if she was able to go, and left a voicemail.
Three hours later, I called again. Again, I left a message.
About 7:45, a friend dropped me a text message out of nowhere. After a bit of convincing, I ended up meeting up with her to see "Evan Almighty." (Honestly, it's not that bad. Not great, but not bad either.) For the record, HM never called me back.
"If she doesn't want this," I told my friend in the minutes before the film, "that's her loss."
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to bed. I go in tomorrow at 7 a.m. I know, I know, but I need to get up some cash to afford Vegas somehow...
Over the past few weeks, I started talking to HM with regularity again. We fell out of touch due many factors, one being a bad night back in March when I met up with her and some of her friends at a club. Not to bore you with details, but a drunken rant written that night became the only (up to this point, anyway) private post on my myspace blog.
Yesterday, I called her up, asking how she was recovering from a night out with a co-worker of mine. HM was fine. Her friend, not so much. She told me she was going to be packing for a move today.
"If you're not too busy with packing tomorrow, do you wanna catch a movie?" I asked.
"Sure, I need to see if I can find a sitter," she replied.
Eager with the knowledge that my first date in months would be happening, I picked up around my place throughout the day. (And I still have cleaning to do, I'm quite slow when it comes to chores.) I called her at 3:30 to see if she was able to go, and left a voicemail.
Three hours later, I called again. Again, I left a message.
About 7:45, a friend dropped me a text message out of nowhere. After a bit of convincing, I ended up meeting up with her to see "Evan Almighty." (Honestly, it's not that bad. Not great, but not bad either.) For the record, HM never called me back.
"If she doesn't want this," I told my friend in the minutes before the film, "that's her loss."
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to bed. I go in tomorrow at 7 a.m. I know, I know, but I need to get up some cash to afford Vegas somehow...
Labels: Life, The Game of Love
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