More Waiting

I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.
— Margaret Thatcher

Oh my god. Tuesday night I could hardly wait for today. Because today is the day Pub Crawl Boy (I know – it’s totally romantic, isn’t it?) and I were meant to have drinks after work. He IMed me Tuesday night and we chatted and he asked when I was free this week. We settled on tonight at 6, at a place near where I work that, he says, has amazing mojitos, which he loves (and coincidentally, so do I). He said he couldn’t stay long but that he really wanted to see me.

Then I spent two days furiously texting and emailing Karen discussing what to wear. I shopped last night for three effing hours and tried on 22 pairs of pants and NONE of them fit me quite right. I hate shopping. Malls make me crazy, but I did it because I didn’t want to wear my favorite dress (even though it looks smashing) and appear to be trying too hard. So I came home with a super-cute shirt from Banana Republic, but decided this morning that it was too low cut to wear to work, so I chose another outfit. The pants are really too big for me, but they were the best of a rapidly diminishing set of options in my closet. But by the time I got to work, though, they were stretched out from sitting on the train, and I didn’t feel confident anymore.

So I ditched work at 11 and walked 6 blocks in 95-degree weather to H&M, where I tried on 9 more pairs of pants and finally came up with a pair that were ok, and definitely better than the ones I had on, except that they were way too long. Luckily, though, I am so resourceful (and apparently careless with my employer’s time) that I stopped by CVS on the way back to work and picked up a sewing kit, and then locked myself in my office where I promptly cut off the cuffs of the pants did a quick whip stitch to get them to the right length. Have we not already established that I am a bit crazy? Yes? Ok, then.

So I was all set – I had brought make-up to touch up before leaving the office, and I was going to change just before I left for the bar. Around 3, I thought to check my gmail again, just in case, and there was the email I had feared I would get – he had to bail, he said, and he was sorry, but he hoped next week would work. My heart dropped. I didn’t know what to feel. Because he didn’t explain, my immediate reaction was, he’s having second thoughts. But then I reminded myself about the things he’s said so far, and I decided to trust the universe and see what happens. I emailed back: That’s disappointing; I was looking forward to seeing you. I hope everything’s ok. Let’s talk soon about next week. Almost immediately, he replied: Yeah, it sucks. I just have to finish this report for work today. Believe me, I’d definitely rather be drinking mojitos with you at 6 today.

So there you go. I have to wait til next week to see him, but he still wants to see me, and that’s what’s important, right? Patience, as I’ve told you, is really not my strong suit. And as much of an optimist as I am generally, I often have a hard time believing that new people I meet who act friendly really do like me, so my first instinct was to assume that he had changed his mind about me. I’m trying to remember that I know very little about what his life is like, and how busy his job is, and the only thing I can do is trust him and hope for the best.

And in a way, maybe it’s better – I ordered 7 pairs of pants online today, and they’ll get here before I see him again – maybe the perfect pair will be among them!

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5 thoughts on “More Waiting

  1. You crack me up, so much! A total of 31 pairs of pants, a quick hem job and then ordering 7 more pants, online? Can I pitch this to my television writer friend? That’s classic.

    I’m glad that he seems pretty genuine and that you’re being positive about the situation. I think trusting the universe is the best path.

  2. Pitch away! Don’t forget the part where I was so anxious about the day that I only remembered that I had intended to drive to the Metro station when I was already halfway there on the shuttle bus, and that I arrived at work only to discover that I’d forgotten my ID badge for the first time ever, in the entire nine months that I’ve had this job.

  3. dude!
    This is killing me. Because it’s about me…
    Sorry off topic. I am loving this! I’m sure you are not.

    I want Spike to tell all or most of his gender this story of you preparing for this meeting. Because yes Spike, this is what we do for you and your cohorts!
    I was chuckling at the thought of you doing a whip stitch in your office! Ha!
    You rock Melanie! And you make me smile.

  4. I know, Colleen – Karen said she was telling her brother this story, and he said he’d never made a girl that crazy. Karen said, I’m sure you have; you just don’t know it. And that’s true – they have no idea what we go through.

    In my defense, though, I did have to decide at 7 in the morning what I’d look best in at 6 that night, and I made a bad choice. Because looking good goes so far to making you feel good about yourself, and I knew the pants I had on were not the most flattering, I needed to get new ones to boost my confidence, so I could focus on being my shiny, sparkly self when I was with him. And it’s also already been documented here that I am in desperate need of new pants. So there!

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