I had a date. Yeah I know, wonders never cease.
He’s a guy I see most mornings walking his Jack Russell, my least favorite breed since, they’re about as cuddly as a banker you’re hitting up for a loan…red flag number one. When he says, hey, wanna have dinner sometime? I disregard the PAUSE RULE of, waiting five seconds before answering.
“Sure,” I say, while Fido has his teeth fixed on the hem of my hoodie.
“How bout tonight? Know a great little place on York I’m betting you’ll like.”
“Is it quiet?”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
Hmm, does he own it? I’m now dreaming of carte blanche at the dessert cart.
So I get there on time in my best Audrey dress, and he’s late.
Red flag number 2. I’m from Connecticut you see, so arriving when you’re supposed to is considered a pastime, same as golf, croquet and the designated cocktail hour.
When he finally waltzes in, minus an apology, I think, oh let it go, as I peruse the French menu with entrees that should come with oxygen and a heart surgeon.
After licking his lips like a cat, he puts his phone on the table, so now there’s 3 of us.
When the waiter comes to get our drink order, he textes.
When the drinks arrive, he textes again.
While the waiter gives us the nightly specials, he does it again.
“Um, could we have a few minutes please,” I say to, Mr. you’re hurrying us just a tad, who reluctantly departs.
“Are you going to be flirting with your phone all during dinner?”
He looks at me with great bewilderment. “Will that be a problem?”
This time I do observe the PAUSE RULE…1…2…3…4…5…
“No, it won’t be,” I say, as he checks it again.
“Did you hear that?”
“Call for Miss Bianchi. Hmm, wonder who it could be,” I say, popping my cardigan round my shoulders, clicking my heels like Dorothy.
“Excuse me, will you?”
He doesn’t even look up. You know why?
So, as I’m galloping up York, wondering what I’ll pick up for dinner, I get a text.
Are you okay?
NO PAUSE RULE REQUIRED
Yes, couldn’t be better…and by the way, tell your phone to order the veal, I hear it’s divine.