I'm not your bitch, don't hang your shit on me.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Cancelling two hours late

It's morning and I'm drinking my coffee while checking messages online.  Seconds after logging on, I get one of those 'hey whatchu doing' kind of notes from L.  I say I'm having breakfast and will be going to work in a little bit.  From there, L starts to berate me for "putting unimportant things ahead of living life" kind of rants.  In short, L was horny.  I was irritated.

After a series of back-and-forths, we decide to meet on Sunday afternoon at 2 pm.  It wasn't easy, but I thought, I might as well see if going out with L is worth all of this head scratching.

Sunday afternoon comes around and I send L a text at 1 pm.  "Hey.  I'm going to pick up my coffee in the St. Lawrence Mkt area so let me know when you're around."  This would give L plenty of time to come down via subway (it would take about 10 minutes).

Times passes.  I know L flaked out.  No surprise since L's mental instability can seep through Skype with a few keystrokes.  It's more than two hours later and I get a text from L.

"LOL... Is that how you confirm a coffee date?  No thanks"

I could reply, but don't.  It's not worth my time.  L is insane and is already forgotten.  I send a text to a friend about what happened.

"You need to find a new outlet to meet [people]."

"Church?  There's lots of normals there."

"Perfect!  The Catholic Church is full of repressed perverts!"

"Too bad I can't meet them via work.  My industry is full of people I don't like or are so not my type."

"You and me both."

For some reason, I have a feeling that I'll be getting another Skype message from L asking what I'm doing (in the morning while I'm at work) asking if I want to hang out.  Only I won't bother to respond.


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