Transplanted Life
Monday, August 25, 2003
Not necessarily drunk, but definitely pissed
Stood me up.

I can't believe it. Last week, when Kurt had mentioned going out on a "real" date tonight, I'd been kind of worried - I had liked the whole deal where we'd just hit a movie or something small like that. It was "just friends" stuff, and though I guess we might, technically, have been dating, it didn't put much pressure on me. I could keep it up indefinitely until Michelle decided she wanted her body back.

But the event sounded kind of cool (a kickoff for a charity golf tournament at the Comedy Connection, with a bunch of ballplayers and comedians). And yesterday was kind of a lot of fun, so I reached into Michelle's closet and found her Little Black Dress and a pair of black heels, and threw them into a bag so I could change at work before Kurt picked me up.

I was just coming out of the ladies' room at 5:30 when Jen saw me and asked about my makeup. I, of course, hadn't brought any. She rolled her eyes and marched me back in there, pulling some stuff out of her purse, fussing over my face. It was weird, not just because I really don't like makeup - even as a kid, I'd refused to participate any time any sort of face-painting went on in school Heck, I hate getting my hand stamped for a club or such. It was the idea that Jen was the one trying to get it on without me grimacing. She's my kung-fu-movie buddy, and just doesn't seem like the Barbie-doll-loving type who would really get into making someone look pretty.

In fact, I was kind of nervous when I saw Michelle's reflection in the mirror. If I were going out with a girl who looked and dressed like this, I might have certain expectations for after the date. Wearing that little black dress seemed like something I'd regret not trying later, but at the present time, it could lead to something else entirely, something I know I wasn't ready for.

But, that never happened. Kurt had said he would pick me up at six, but by the time quarter past rolled around, he was nowhere to be seen. I tried calling his cell phone, but got no answer. By then, Jen was hanging around with me in the lobby, and at six-thirty, Dimitri gave Michelle's body a good ogling as he left for the day. I was about to try him at work, but I didn't know whether that was a good idea. Kurt had never given "Michelle" his work number, and in fact had never told "her" the specific company he worked for. What if I did get through and had to explain how I knew how to reach him?

Needless to say, I was angry as hell when seven o'clock came around. The event was starting, and no sign of Kurt. I was stupidly angry - I had put on this clingy dress, broken out the high heels (which I hate - aside from the weird toe-then-heel way they make you step, they combine the worst parts of going barefoot with the worst parts of wearing shoes), let Jen smear who knows what sort of crap on Michelle's face, and for what? Dimitri undressing me with his eyes. Just a whole bunch of wasted effort.

I was more confused, though. I've known Kurt for ten years, and the guy is reliable. When we shared an apartment in college, he was the guy who handled the bills, to the point where he always made sure he could pay them on his own just in case. He calls from his cell when he think's he'll be five minutes late. And in all the time I've known him, he's never once cancelled on anything.

Besides - Michelle's hot. He didn't make any pretense of hiding his attraction the last time we saw each other. If I was dating Michelle, there would have to be a good reason for not showing.

By 7:30 I was sitting on a bar stool, but it just made me angrier. I had guys hitting on me in rapid-enough succession that I looked for a line, and each one just made me wonder why I was there instead of at the event. I left after one drink.

I did stop at the liquor store on the way home, though. It was weird to be carded, since I hadn't been for a few years. Michelle is five or six years younger than me, though, so I guess she's young enough that they have to.

Anyway, right now I've got two Coors Lights in me along with that Sam Adams from the bar, and I've almost drifted off twice while writing this. Apparently alcohol affects Michelle's body differently from mine - she just goes straight to drowsy without the extroverted stage. Which is probably a good thing, meaning I won't spill my life story just because I've had a couple drinks, but it means the alcohol isn't really helping me much right now.

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