Jul 01 2008
Nothing Says Good Times Like a Little Friday Night Nagging
Sometimes I get restless and there are so many things to do that I can’t choose. Or better yet, it won’t choose me. Friday was one of those days.
I was trying to round up the girls for happy hour when Carll sent me an e-mail. He was just checking in since I hadn’t “returned any of his numerous calls.” Eh, I thought, and I don’t plan to reply to this e-mail either. But as the day dwindled on and everyone was opting out of happy hour in order to get ready for their later plans, Carl’s e-mail was searing away at my psyche. So I give in and reply:
Hey! So sorry I keep missing you. Been SUPER busy. We should get together…soon.
This was slightly evil of me. I won’t ever accept last minute plans but as my Friday after work pre-debauchery outing became more and more unlikely, I was hoping he would take the bait. Ding! Outlook let’s me know I have a new message all of two minutes later. It’s Carl. Surprise, surprise. He wants to know if soon means he can take me to dinner tonight. Around 7? Sure!
But just as I say “yes” one of my sorority sisters (SS) texts me and suggests that I meet her for drinks in Century City. Her treat. Le sigh. Her offer is much more tempting, as I really like her and I’m, clearly, lukewarm about Carl. I shoot him an e-mail asking if we can re-schedule for Saturday. No explanations, because it’s not his business. While I’m awaiting his reply SS texts me and efficiently gives me a timeline that I see doesn’t really work with my anxious-to-have-a-drink-right-after-work self. So I tell her that we should just do it another time.
At that very moment Carl sends me a long winded e-mail about how disappointed he is, and he wishes I’d make time for him and he’s certain “not to disappoint” if I’ll ever just give him a chance and… Frankly all I can read is nag, nag, nag. Ugggghhhh!
Before I can even reply he sends ANOTHER e-mail saying that he gets it. He knows that I got what I “think” is a better offer and he wants me to know that I’m “a tad rude” but he’ll forgive me because I’m “so darn cute” and that I say I don’t like the games that L.A. men play. Well, he doesn’t like the females’ games either. If I’m really and truly interested in him I’ll stop playing this cat and mouse game and just let him treat me to “a fantastic meal with even better company.” AGGGGGGGGHHHHH!! Gag me. Anyone touting how great they are socially, is not that great.
He doesn’t realize he was making it WORSE. Threats don’t work with me, and I’m not that nice. I’m all set to fire off a reply. Just then a Pizza Hut banner ad rolled atop my Yahoo. Mmmm. Pizza. I promptly sent Carl an e-mail saying that I had, indeed, received a better offer. Said offer included extra cheese and pineapple with a few glasses of Merlot from my private collection. Make someone else a lucky girl tonight. I’ll pass.
This would have all ended up better had the girls just met for happy hour or if SS could have been in Century City 30 minutes earlier.
Carl works two blocks down, so I must avoid Wilshire at lunch time for a few.
I enjoy reading your stories so much. I had to laugh while reading this one.
That guy sounds like an egotistical dork. I’d pass too.