Marisa – Part II – Where The Hell Are You?

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

I text Marisa the day before to make sure we were still on for lunch at the restaurant the next day for lunch at 1pm. She said that we were. She seems flaky, but this is a good sign.

The day of the lunch I text her in the morning to re-confirm that I will see her at 1pm at the restaurant, and provide the name and address again. Again, she confirms.

I get to the restaurant at 12:45, because I’m always early. If you’re on time, you’re late. My father drilled it into my soul about the clock and being on time. I have been grounded for long periods of time for coming home late. I learned my lesson when it came to being on time. If you set a time you’re going to do something, you have to do it and be on time. He was the father of four children. Children thrive in a family built on order. So do dogs. Kids are like pups. You have to be consistent. Children respond to things they can count on. It build trust. It builds a happy tranquil life. If things are in disarray and never scheduled the kids are confused and will lose their focus. My family was always tight and on time. If my father said something was going to happen, it happened at the exact time it was going to happen. But the bigger message and lesson here was, your word is your bond. If you’re late for something, that says my word means nothing and I don’t give a shit about you. My ex-wife was always late for everything and it drove me nuts. That among other things drove us apart. I pride myself on being on time and on point with everyone in my life. It was a hard lesson, but once I got it, I got it. Now whenever anyone is late for anything in my life I take a very dim view of that behavior. If you’re late because of traffic, or some extraordinary circumstance I am fine with that. Shit happens. The world is full of unforseen delays. It’s a city. Anything can happen. But if we have locked it down in the calendar and I have confirmed it with you, there is no reason for you to blow it. If you do, that sends up an enormous red flag that you can’t manage your calendar, your mind or your life. It’s a simple lesson in accountability.

I text her that I have arrived for our 1pm reservation. I have my table held by the hostess, one of my current squeezes, Mary. (See: Mary – 2016 to Present – Chapter 1 – unexpected Table for Two) I got there early, because everybody is always a little late because they suck, but it gives me a chance to catch up with her. I haven’t seen her since we destroyed a bottle of wine at Devon a few weeks ago on a Sunday.

We catch up a bit. She looks great and tells me about her little ailments that she’s finishing up. (She’s 69) It was nice to just text her today, and make the reservation for my favorite table. She tells me that the holidays killed her financially, so she has been laying low. I don’t think she’s accustomed to going out and having fun with a younger man. But Mary is awesome and always pays dutch. I tell her I haven’t been texting her, because I know she’s been just chilling, but I do miss her. I mean that. I do. I love hanging with Mary. I would like to spend time with her again soon, but I’ve been so busy lately with everything. Two jobs and moving the salon has been taking up all of my time.

I watch her doing her job and running around to different tables and think how I’d love to have some romantic time with her up at her apartment. I am going to make that happen. If she’s on a budget, I’ll just bring the wine up, and order food in. We can watch Casablanca and neck!

I can tell she’s happy to see me, and there is now a little history there. She asks me who I’m meeting today. I tell her I have been trying to get into Sofitel with a new education program with my company and I am meeting with a rep from there that could lead me to the beverage manager. (A bold-faced lie) I tell her that this client is a little flaky but I have to take the meeting to get to the main guy. I could have met Marisa anywhere for lunch, but I really wanted to see Mary, and I haven’t had their amazing chicken tenders in a while. Priorities in the face of exposure.

I got this.


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7 thoughts on “Marisa – Part II – Where The Hell Are You?”

  1. I was having the being on time conversation with someone just last week. Being late shows a lack of respect and that their time is more important than your time. Of course, anyone can get held up, but consistently late people drive me mad!

  2. I’m with you on being on time. I think the Navy drilled that into me. It drives me nuts to be running late for anything. I’m betting flaky Marisa didn’t make it there in time, or at all.

    1. Exactly! Well, it was such a nightmare, I was able to get 4 posts about that one day! Tune in tomorrow and Thursday for the crazy conclusion! Thank you for your continued support.

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