Better Never Than Late

I chatted with Richard a few times online until we decided to meet: 11:30 a.m. on Sunday at Starbucks. Simple enough. I opted to take the bus for the one mile trek as swamp ass as an ice breaker seemed like a paradox. 

As I walked to the bus stop at 11:10, I received a text from Richard: "I'm here." Oh...k. So he's fantastically early and I just started my journey--as expected since our date was in 20 minutes. I texted saying I'm on my way and will see him at 11:30.

The bus arrived, I took a seat, and pulled out my 3DS for some pre-gaming. Reorganizing my inventory would be the most fun I'd have the next hour.

About two blocks away from Starbucks at 11:31, I received another text: "Should we reschedule?" Ohhhhh...k. Now, did I miss something? I checked the original message that had 11:30 as the meeting time, and noted he didn't suggest he's the Czar of Time. At that point, I should have texted back: "Sorry I'm a minute late--I don't want to start our impossibly timely romance on a sour note. Take care sweet, punctual prince." Instead--since I hadn't witnessed enough crazy at this point--I said I was two blocks away and should be there in a couple minutes. No response from him.

I arrived within the great hallowed halls of Starbucks at 11:34 and looked for the early bird--nowhere to be found. I called him, "Hey where are you?"

"Oh, I wasn't sure when you'd show up so I went for a walk."

"Oh...k. I'm here now. Are you gonna come back?"

"Yea, I'll be there in a few minutes."

So, in the fury that was waiting three minutes, Richard--who will henceforth be called Strict Dick--had to pace around the city instead of waiting mere moments for a stranger to arrive. Maybe I'm an incredibly patient person, or MAYBE I'm equipped with so many electronics (and inner demons) that I play the waiting game without issue.

I took a seat and prepared for what would surely be a rigid ride.

Strict Dick showed up and I extended my hand to shake as I do with all dates; if he's Strict Dick, I'm Hands-off Hermin. We each ordered a drink: SD getting a venti tea (really, the drink of peace for the boy of urgency?), and myself the usual $4 cup of apple cider bullshit. Yes, I'm the one customer creating demand for that product.

We sat down and chatted. He asked what happened with my delay, and I declared absolutely nothing since a few minutes of tardiness seemed reasonable in a busy city setting. Moving past my despicable date infraction, we chatted our way through the routine introductory dialogue.

Halfway through my apple piss, SD suggests we go for a walk. I'm taken aback because I thought he got a few laps in before I arrived...15 MINUTES AGO. I calmly finished my beverage and mentioned how restless he is (yea, not like his leg was shaking as if a million spiders were braiding his leg hairs while we chatted...). 

We started to walk around glorious River North in Chicago. Convenient enough, my friend lived about 10 blocks east of this Starbucks. On a secret, tight schedule, I led the charge to my escape. Was this guy Newton's Law of Motion reincarnate? I'll never know, but when we reached my friend's apartment, I decided to rest.

"Well, Strict Dick, it's been a real scheduled program, but I think I'll drop off here at my friend's place and check on the time."

"Oh, are you sure?"

"Ahh yes. So this is the part of the date where I say crazy things to ensure you don't contact me again."

"Ok."

"I was four minutes late for our date because I was plucking out my pubic hairs one by one."

"Ok. Take care."

And I never heard from again. Ultimately, Richard was obscured by the mists of time and became legend in this post.

Editor's note: Although written today, this date took place in 2013. This tardy recap would surely infuriate him...