Steamed. (and pressed.)

On Saturday, I had a blind date. He suggested we go to lunch, he suggested the time, he suggested the place. Perfect. I arrived early (shocking), and after 15 minutes he called, saying something about needing to pick up his dry cleaning but would "stop by." Mmmm-kay...he finally showed up all frazzled (and not cute) saying he was going out of town the next day so had to pick up his dry cleaning and could I hang out at the restaurant for another 15-20 minutes. I said no. I mean what the hell, dude - YOU picked the time. Go get your laundry later.

My complete lack of sympathy or flexibility is why I'm single, I'm sure - but sometimes I think it's better that way!