my faux date

Last night I went on a date. As far as first dates go, it was probably one of my weirdest. Although not my worst. My worst date was the one I wanted to end 10 minutes after I met him. No, this date wasn't bad. Just weird. And questionable as to whether it actually was a date.
He invited me to go to his hockey game. The guy who couldn't give me a relationship who I dated for over a month never once invited me to one of his hockey games. And we dated over a month. Inviting a girl to your hockey game seems like something you do after dating a month. Not a first date.
After the hockey game, my date and I went out for drinks. With the entire team. That was a first. Me, on a date, with 10 other guys. I had fun. How could I not? But there was none of the usual first date conversation. You know, two people exchanging their life histories wondering when they should start opening up the relationship history vault. No, I engaged in conversations with various guys at various times throughout the evening.
I guess because it wasn't a first date. It was a faux date.
So in the end, I decided I had a good time on my date. Or whatever it was.

waiting sucks

Tonight I realized that I hate waiting on people to show up. Last night it was my date. Tonight it is the A/C installer. He was supposed to be here at 6pm. At 6:45 I called to find out where he was. I was told that he had left with the tools. Given that it is suffocatingly hot due to the humidity, I was pretty aggressive. I asked if there was someone else who could come install the A/C. I was told to wait until 7pm. If he still wasn't here, call back. 7 came and went and still no guy to install the A/C. So now I'm waiting on the new guy to show up. He assured me he would be here before 8pm.
I hope so. I hate waiting.
Plus I have a date.
What?
Dating still sucks, but that won't stop me.

dating sucks

Last Sunday, the guy I have been dating since May gave me the "I can't give you a serious relationship" talk. Um, ok. I didn't ask you for a serious relationship. He assured me he still wants to date me, but I'm free to date other people. I haven't heard from him since Tuesday. I'm not sure I will be seeing him again.
Ironically the very next night I met a guy who asked me if I had a boyfriend. I responded with not really. He asked for my number. He called me on Saturday and asked me out for tonight.
I'd like to point out that it is 8:10, and I'm blogging. I called him over an hour and a half ago, and he said would call me back. I can't believe I've been stood up.
I am reminded of several Sex and the City moments. For example, Miranda got stood up. When she called her no-show date, she learned he had died of a heart attack. I'm not saying I'm hoping this guy died or even suffered serious injury, but I don't want to believe I've been stood up. I'm also reminded of Carrie dating that guy from her therapist's office. She learns that his problem is he can't commit to women, and her problem is she dates unavailable men. I can relate.
So in conclusion, dating sucks.

update: My date finally called. He was at a funeral all day.
Dating still sucks. But I'm going to give him a second chance and let him make it up to me...

the chair

While I'm a little bit nervous to blog about work after a friend and fellow blogger recently discovered her bosses found her blog, some stories have to be told.
To set the scene: I work in an office that has expanded in personnel, but lacks the space for all of us. I currently spend my day in a portion of the office nicknamed "the bunker" where I work intimately (due to proximity) with 3 co-workers and 1 slightly neurotic boss. (Really, I'm hoping she does not discover this blog..)
Yesterday my boss realized her assistant doesn't have an "office" chair. You know, a chair that most offices have with a tall back to provide support, armrests, adjustable heights, and wheels. The truth is she does have an "office" chair, but I am using it. I'm the one with out an "office" chair. In fact, I'm without a desk or proper workspace. For almost 3 months, I had no chair, no desk, no computer, and no phone. Finally my laptop computer was ordered and delivered, and not long after I had my phone extension installed on a co-worker's phone. Trust me, this was progress. It was progress I made after 3 months of asking about a work space, trusting my computer had been ordered, and wondering where we would put my phone. All of this was by my own initiative and inquiry.
Now after being there for over 4 months, I've established some sort of workspace with my laptop, borrowed phone, and half desk. For a while as I worked in my area, I sat on a barrel chair with a wooden back. After a few weeks, my back started aching. That's when JW offered to let me use her chair. She assured me she didn't mind. I'm not sure I believed her, but I accepted the chair. This was several weeks ago.
Then yesterday my boss notices that JW doesn't have her chair. With everything going on, I'm not quite sure why she chose this fight. She demanded to know where JW's chair went. JW explained that I have her chair. Now it's not as if my boss can ask where my chair is. I don't have a chair. I've never had a chair. I STILL DON'T HAVE A DESK. I'm sitting at the half table covered with my boxes of files that I have no where to put. Sorry, that was a tangent.
There was at one time an extra "office" chair in the bunker. Then one day much like any other day someone came into the bunker seeking an extra chair to roll into the big boss' office for a meeting. It was never seen again. In fact, we didn't really give much thought to it again. Until yesterday.
For some reason my boss decided to freak out that JW doesn't have her chair. She told JW to send an email to the ENTIRE staff to find out who has her chair. Well, technically to find out who has the extra chair since I have her chair. This morning her tirade about the chair continued. She went to the office manager to demand that she find out where the chair is. Trust me, the office manager was not very happy about this request. She is swamped with work and doesn't have time to be tracking down some chair.
In the meantime, she offered JW the account coordinator's chair. Then she called our upstairs office and asked our web designer to return the chair- even though he doesn't have a chair either. As he was rolling the chair into the bunker, the account coordinator came into the office. I started laughing when I heard the account coordinator ask, "Where is my chair?"
Really, the amount of time spent on this whole chair issue was pretty ridiculous. With the long list of high priority issues we all have to deal with, I'm not sure how the chair ended up at the top.

where everybody knows my name

When I moved to New York City in Fall 2005, it didn't take me long to establish my regular happy hour place. In the same way that I went to Two Rows in Dallas every Wednesday for nearly 2 years, you could find me at Nacho's Kitchen (also known as Nacho Mama's) every Friday for nearly 2 years. Each week my roommate and I would gather friends to meet us for cheap margaritas and beers. Some days it would be just of the two of us. I'll even admit that a few times last summer, I went there by myself. But with each passing week, I grew to know the bartenders. Each time a new one appeared behind the bar, I made sure they knew my name, my drink, and my tab.
Over the course of time, I met other "regulars." Even the owner knew me and would indulge my special requests such as shutting off the fans or changing the TV channel.
I was a loyal customer. It paid off. There were many nights when I would get the tab and realize that the bartenders had really taken care of me. Sometimes it was giving me happy hour prices all night or leaving off a drink or two or four. I loved going there. If you visited me in New York, then I probably took you to Nacho's. You can't deny, they made an excellent frozen margarita.
I met my friend Julie for drinks on Thursday before our book club. I, of course, suggested we go to Nacho's. Surprisingly I hadn't been there the week before. The bartender asked where I had been. He then proceeded to tell me that Nacho's was closing on Sunday. I asked why it would be closed on Sunday. He corrected me- not closed on Sunday, closing on Sunday. Forever.
What?
Turns out, Nacho's has been sold and will be an organic restaurant. I'm pretty sure they don't sell margaritas in organic restaurants. So now what am I supposed to do?
I went back to Nacho's Friday night and before I even sat at the bar, there was a margarita in front of me. That is what I'm going to miss. Nacho's was to me what Cheers was to Norm. It was a place for me to stop by and have drinks with friends. It was my place. I didn't even take guys I dated there unless I knew that it was starting to get serious. They were my people.
I'm going to miss my people and my place. I guess I'll just have to find a new place with new people. Preferably on the upper east side... with cheap margaritas and beer. And where everybody knows my name...