Reservations for dinner

Rob’s in trouble. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and I am scorned. Last night, he forgot about Date Night. He promised to make up for it by joining me tonight, and now he’s late.
Stacey is only in town for a short visit and Saturday night presents her one opportunity to get together with everyone. “Everyone” meaning mostly her girlfriends. We’re to meet for dinner and drinks at 8:00. Normally, this is a scene Rob would avoid, but tonight he’s making up for last night. “I really want to come,” he lies. “As long as we’re together.”

Fine. I allow him the honour of accompanying me. First, though, he will spend the afternoon hunting. He will be back in time to have a shower, dress and take me to dinner at 8:00. But Rob is easily distracted. At 7:40 he phones to advise me that he is still 40 minutes from home. If I’d like to go to dinner ahead of him, he’ll catch up. How thoughtful.

Going ahead of Rob would deny me the occasion to give him shit in a private setting. So I wait. He arrives home at 8:20 in obvious need of a shower. He tells me that he would have been on time, but he stopped in to see Ed. Then a quick visit with Billy. He provides me with news on their lives. I tell him to get his ass in the shower.

On the drive to the restaurant, Rob chatters away about his hunting adventures. He has yet to apologize for his lateness. I interrupt his story and launch into my rehearsed tirade. He would have been on time if he cared. His actions speak louder than his words. He doesn’t care about my feelings. My friends are never his priority. My social commitments are never his priority. He should try harder. He is NOT sorry and even if he is, it doesn’t matter because he could have been on time if he’d only tried and he’s an asshole anyway.

Rob is very gentle natured. He does not fight back. Instead, he wears a look of regret like a dog caught chewing the carpet. He looks to me and bats his eyelashes and puts the smallest curve to the edges of his mouth. I don’t take the bait. No sir. I’m good and mad and someone must suffer.

Always the gentleman, Rob drops me off in front of the restaurant and goes off in search of a parking space. I run in to meet my friends and give them a quick version of the events that resulted in my lateness. But where is everyone? Where is Stacey? I look around at the hundred different faces and can’t find Stacey’s.

I check my BlackBerry. Dinner is Saturday at 8:00, here in this restaurant. Next Saturday.

I leave the restaurant and wait by the entrance. Rob approaches, still looking humble and sorry.