Posted by: fireweaver | May 19, 2007

update on mr.MIA

continuing the wtf theme of previous interactions with this guy…

i’m online thursday evening, 2 days after our last talk, when a message pops up from him, “hola, what’s up?” are you kidding me?? before i can recover from the eye-rolling i’m in the midst of, he says, “sorry i didn’t call the other day.” “wow, you must be psychic, because i was just going to get you to define ‘later’ for me…” he comes up with some tale about being busy at work, which is all kinds of plausible given that he’s only started this job within the last month. “that’s fine,” i say, “why don’t you take some time to get all your stuff straightened out, and just look me up again whenever life settles down a bit for you.” i think i’m being more than fair here, not acting all crazy-woman vindictive harpy, and pretty reasonable. “damnit,” he types, “i didn’t want to screw this up like this. can i call you?” which he does, and we get all this hashed right out in yet another pleasantly adult conversation. i get to say what i’m finding fault with in this situation, he agrees that it’s an issue, disagreement resolved sans blame and hostility. we talk for another hour after that, and he’s still funny, still charming in a self-deprecating way, and when it’s time for both of us to crash out, he makes plans to call me right as we’re both getting off of work (he’s out by 3, i was going to be out by 4ish) the next day to make those elusive plans.

friday afternoon rolls around, and while there might have been crickets chirping in the background, that’s not my ringtone. not too terribly shocked by this turn of non-events, i proceed on with the afternoon routine of snacktime and a couple chapters of my latest book. later in the evening, almost as if he’s psychic to my needs to rail about this, my romance-crisis-commiserating buddy Larry calls. not 5 minutes into my rant about wishy-washy flaky boys, “well, holy crap. speak of the devil.” yep, it’s now after 8, and i’m getting another “hola, what’s up” instead of that phone call at 4. after. we. discussed. this. “back in a while,” i say, “i’m on the phone.” Larry asked if my keyboard was still intact after overhearing the crack of thunder that was my thumb on the side ‘enter’ key.

2 hours later (Larry being every bit as chatty as i am), i head back up to the computer to see if he’s still there, which he was. “so, no call today, thought we had this worked out yesterday,” i say. turns out there was a major crisis at work, which was explained in such crisis step by crisis step detail that i’m convinced it’s not b.s. apparently, he’s on call for the weekend, and just forgot to bring his cell phone to work with him that day, and messaged me as soon as he got home. after switching to the de rigeur phone convo for a little while, work was calling him in again, mid-joke. “crap, not again. i’ll try to call you tomorrow.” which never happened.

so, there you have it. an endless string of quirks of fate throwing up speedbumps to us actually ever getting together, all of them unique, all of them plausible. but peeps, this chicky’s had quite enough. just wish that these guys would come with a sign on their forehead (or at least on their yahoo id) that says “asshole” or “flake” or whatever would be most applicable. i mean, let me know from the get-go what i’m dealing with, and i’ll be all kinds of prepared. until then, 🙄

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