Charming, but single

I was relaying a conversation I had with a certain man to a friend. He’d said he’d come over and didn’t and so I sent him a snippy text the next morning because I am actually 12 years old and he wrote back later to say he was sorry.

“And then I said, ‘Look, I’m going to stop worrying about this, I’m not your girlfriend. This is not supposed to be stressful for me,’ which I thought was pretty reasonable,” I told my friend. “But remember this was on instant messenger.”

“Uh-huh,” said my friend.

“So he writes back, ‘I understand’,” I said. “And so I write back, ‘I just want to have fun.’”

“Right.”

“And he writes back, ‘I know.’”

“Okay …”

“And I say, ‘So, if you’re not up for that, let me know.’”

“And?”

“He said, ‘Oh I am,’” I said. “And then whole thing drove me crazy because I was so incredibly pissed about him just not calling me to say he wasn’t coming and here I am trying to have a conversation about this and all he can muster is one or two word answers? But then I was thinking that he WAS on his Treo, so maybe that’s all he could type.”

“Wait, excuse me?” My friend had been skeptically listening to me vent, but her ears perked up at this.

“Well, you know, they have small keyboards.”

“Smaller than the keyboard on your Blackberry, which you seem to have no problems typing at length on?” she asked.

“Well, you know, not everyone can type …”

“Do Treos have full keyboards?”

“Yes.”

“Does he have the most GINORMOUS hands ever? Are his fingers so big that he can’t wiggle them? Are his hands FREAKISHLY large?” My friend asked, clearly annoyed.

“Well, not really.”

“SO, you’re telling me that you’re now making excuses for a guy for sending crap one and two word responses on his phone, which doesn’t even have one of those lame keyboards with two letters to a key?”

“Well, when you say it like that,” I said. “What was I supposed to say?”

“APOLOGY NOT ACCEPTED. WTF!” And to punctuate she airkeyboarded on her Blackberry and slammed it down on the table.

My little black dress and I are off to make some mischief in the City for the night. Packed a light wrap to keep me warm if the company, the food and the wine don’t. The goal for the night is to just stop caring, let the evening take me where it may and, of course, spend it all with some great old friends.

On the luckiness scale of one to 10, I’m at least at a 12 right now.