It Could Happen to You

I know it's been awhile - my apologies...

Last week was a pretty eventful week for me.

Let's rehash:

On Monday night, I decided to enjoy a quiet dinner at a local Italian restaurant with me, myself, and my new book. Now I know what you're thinking, I won't go grocery shopping by myself but I'll eat dinner by myself? What can I say - I'm crazy.

So while I was sitting there, a guy walks by several times and on his 3rd go-around, he comes over to my table (I was sitting outside) and says "I don't normally do this but I just saw you sitting there and wanted to say hi."

We end up talking for about 20 minutes - a seemingly nice lad by the name of David. After random chit-chat, we set up a date to do yoga and dinner. I thought, oh boy, this should be interesting!

My week was off to a good start...

Tuesday evening rolls around and I have a dinner date with an old fling of mine who was in town from California. Nothing to report there - just that if you ever get a chance to have drinks in the Bowery Hotel lounge, I would highly recommend it.

Thursday night I have another date with Fred - the friend of a friend I told y'all about several blogs ago. This is when my week went from Best Week Ever to Weakest Week Ever...

In a nut shell - it happened to me. I never thought it would actually happen - I thought it was an urban legend. I had seen it in shows, in movies, but never in real life. That's right - I GOT STOOD UP.

I was supposed to meet Fred at an event where my boss was showcasing new musicians at a lounge in the East Village, and after we were going to check out this DJ party that a DJ who records in our studio at work was throwing. Fred told me to text him when I got to the lounge.

True to Esther-form, I was running late, and then the trains were running on molasses. When I'm late, I get flustered. I get off the train and prepare for my quick 7-minute walk to the lounge, but true to Esther-form - I get lost. And when I get lost, I get even more flustered. So I text Fred: "I am SO lost!" To which he responds: "Ask directions."

I almost tripped over my own feet at this. Ask directions? ASK DIRECTIONS!? The correct response SHOULD have been: Ok where are you? Let me help you. Any decent person would have replied something like that - to tell a girl, lost in NYC, by herself, at night to ask for directions? Correction, to tell ME to ask directions? BIG MISTAKE.

So already I'm pissed off. I get to the bar at about 9:30 pm and text Fred that I'm here, to which he responds, "I'll be there in a little bit." 10 pm rolls around... 10:15 rolls around... and he texts me "Are you still there?" Yepppp, I am... 10:30 rolls around... how long does a girl wait for a guy to show up?

Finally, I had had enough. I tell him I'm leaving - going home because I got sick of waiting for him. He responds something along the lines of "I'm so sorry - I didn't realize you were waiting, blah blah." I tell him that he shouldn't say he's going to do something if he's not going to do it. That's when the apologies start rolling in... and can we get drinks tomorrow? No, we can't. I have a concert to go to.

I was fuming - it wasn't that I was there by myself, and it wasn't that other guys kept coming up to me but I had to tell them I was waiting for someone. No, it was that when you say you'll be there in "a little bit," but you're not actually going to be there in "a little bit," just tell me. No big deal. I'll be annoyed, sure, but jeez louise, I'm late to everything! I can't blame others for being late.

So Friday morning I come into work and I get a stream of gchats from Fred - I am so sorry, I thought it was one of those things you come whenever, what are you doing tonight, can we please meet up after the concert, etc. etc. etc. I figured that clearly he's trying here, so I might as well give him another chance. I said that I was going out with my cousin after the concert and Fred can meet us at the club.

After an excellent Dave Matthews Band concert, Diana and I head to Nikki Beach in Midtown (great place if you like good club music and a runway to dance on). It's also the type of place where the cover charge is $20, unless you're on a list and a girl - then it's only $10. By the time we got there, Fred was already there. My cousin specifically told me I can't invite guys to this because they won't be allowed into the VIP where all of his friends were celebrating a birthday. Whoops. But my cousin gets us all in anyways.

The rest of the night was, as I like to say, meh. Fred and I danced, had a good time (but a better time with just Diana and my cousin), he told me I looked nice. He also said, "Wow, I can't believe I came here for you! $20 cover charge - yikes." Sure, it was in a joking tone of voice, but let's be honest - you're either trying to impress me that you ACTUALLY came to Nikki Beach and paid $20 for a girl, or you're trying to imply that you don't like paying $20 cover charge at a bar, even for a girl. Either way, I thought that comment was weird.

Towards the end of the night, my cousin and his friends were starting to leave, and Fred asks me if I'd like to go back to his apartment. No, I would not thank you very much. And then he left.

And to be honest, ladies? I wasn't sad to see him go. I was relieved. Now I didn't have to babysit him and could have fun with my cousin and his friends.

So, that's it ladies. That was my week. Got asked out by a random guy. Got stood up. Realized that Fred isn't all that and a bag of potato chips. And waited till Tuesday to blog about it...