Every Rose has a Thorn

I spoke to Rose over the phone yesterday and arranged to have a date with her tonight, over the phone – and I must say she seems fun and has a very cut voice. However, today I got an e-mail to her in the early afternoon asking if we could have it earlier and relocated to a more convenient place. I didn’t get the e-mail until the evening, so I replied saying that was fine, and that she should call me to reschedule. When I did not hear back from her, I decided it might be prudent to show up for the date anyway, in the event that she did show up, since it’s only a five minute walk from home anyway, and since I just bought myself a copy of Dispatches by Michael Herr, which I brought along to keep me entertained in the event that she did not show up. When I got there, I immediately ordered a beer as big as me, and began reading. 45 minutes later, I paid for my drink and left, feeling a little dejected. I don’t like feeling like I’ve been stood up, even though it isn’t clear to me whether or not I was stood up, as the line of communication is a little fuzzy now. I know that she doesn’t have a cell phone of her own, and I’ve surmised that she probably lives with her mother. I figured this out yesterday when her mother answered the telephone when I called yesterday, but would not disclose who she was. But Rose told me, and really, I thought it was rather cute that she and I would be in similar living situations among other things, and that her mother would try her best not to disclose that. Anyway, I don’t think she needs to know that I sat there and drank alone, waiting for her like some lovesick pussy. I’ve resolved to wait until she contacts me and tell me when we can reschedule.