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9:08 p.m. - December 19, 2003
Yeah, it doesn't feel good
When I've waited for two hours for a guy to show and he hasn't appeared much less call, my mind runs toward negative interpretations of being stood up with disconcerting celerity: I'm not attractive enough to be seen in a Return of the King line or my breath was tremendously offensive the last time we kissed (though I dispute this fervently) or he's hooked up with some guy who caught his eye in classic Queer As Folk fashion. Notice the lack of car accident, random sinkhole, spotty cell coverage or less me-focused-my-fault events that would delay someone en route to pick me up and take me to the movie for which I've waited since I first read Tolkein at 9 years of age.

Questioning my ire: Is it because he's stood me up that I smart, or because there's no one to call up and say, Hey, I have to tickets! Come with! and go out and forget about Ryan II.


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