Shitty Date No.5 – Hardly Davidson

Earlier this year I met a guy online and he is sexy, sexy, sexy, no doubt about it. He definitely fits in the fantasy category, not the take home to Mom category.

Tattooed to blazes, sells Harleys and rides one, a big muscled biker basically. Ladies, you know what I’m talking about.

Anyway, we swap numbers and chat on the phone. And here’s where it gets really interesting. It turns out that he’s actually quite a smart cookie. Extremely well read, listens, backs up his opinions and to my surprise, we end up having excellent chats. Considering the fact that a lot of guys that I meet here in LA don’t really have a lot to say for themselves, Harley turns into quite the revelation.

In my head, I’ve upgraded him to, “worth cooking for”.

So he’s coming over for dinner and I’ve got all the pots on the stove. My studio is just so; the place has been cleaned top to bottom, I’ve got on an outfit that I think looks enough like I made an effort yet casual enough to look like, “oh, you just caught me here”, the wine’s been chosen, uncorked and airing, the pots on the stove gently bubble.

But as I stir, I realize that it’s time and he’s not here. Traffic probably.

So I wait a few more minutes. Stir the pots. Pour a glass.

Twenty minutes go by. So I think, bugger it, I’m calling. And Harley answers.

Me: Hey man, how are you?
Harley: Good buddy. How are you?
Me: Great. Where are you?
Harley: Home, just hanging.
Me: You’re meant to be at my place for dinner.

There is a long silence followed by a profuse apology, which I can hear is quite genuine. He got points in my book for not bullshitting but actually just confessing that he totally forgot, bad day at work and whatnot. Plus he lives about an hour’s ride away in the top of the valley. There’s no way he’s getting here tonight.

So after some crawling he implores me to let him take me to dinner this week and that he’ll call me. The voices or reason in my head scream, “NO!” So of course, I say yes.

And of course, I never hear from him again. Until a couple of months ago when he drops me a message online.

Harley: Hey sexy, how long u been in LA? Grrr….
Me: Long enough to get messages from guys who aren’t smart enough to remember that they’ve already stood me up.

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