stood up!

So in the end, I heard nothing from The Marine. Zilch. Nada. Not a word. Not even a 'sorry, can't make it.' I just timed how long it took me to type those four words - 'sorry, can't make it'. It took four seconds. 

Look, I get that his kid isn't well. I don't begrudge him that at all, and I completely understand that comes first. But FOUR SECONDS. Frankly, he could have been healing the kid with his bare hands all day, and still had time to let me know he couldn't make it.

While, on the whole, I think my parents did a pretty good job of bringing me up, I don't think I was raised to a unusually exemplary standard. I mean, I'm pretty negligible with thank-you notes, and I'm sure my table manners could use some attention. And yet I seem to have got to this grand old age, and understand that if I've made plans with someone and subsequently can't make it, I should first and foremost apologise, and let them know as early as possible in the day so they can make alternative plans. Plans which wouldn't involve almost having a screaming fit in the supermarket at 7 o'clock in the evening (well I'd planned to make myself a lovely dinner and the bastards didn't have any butternut squash).

So, as you might imagine, I was Not. Impressed. And taking into the account that I don't particularly fancy him, I was ready to do a Pick Up Artist/Frenchman-style disappearing act. Which I don't approve of, but frankly, bad behaviour deserves bad behaviour in return.

Then, this morning, I received this:

Good job we didn't meet up, **** was really ill last night, hope you have a good day x

Is he kidding me?! I mean, is he actually, honest-to-God, taking the piss out of me?

In what possible universe does he think that will do? Sending that the next day? No apology for a) standing me up and b) not saying one word to let me know he couldn't make it? 'Good job'??!!

Again, I sincerely hope the kid feels better soon, especially as I think he's back on duty next week, and it'd be horrid if he had to leave while his child is still sick. But I'm sorry, life is just too short for this crap. And given that I don't actually fancy him, I think we can consider that a decision made. Maybe I'm being draconian again, but that's just how I'm feeling. If we can thank the frogs I've encountered thus far for anything, it's that each time, they are significantly reducing the amount of patience I'm willing to have, and allowances I'm willing to make for bad behaviour.

So well done, Mr Marine. You have the immeasurable honour of being ranked alongside the Pick Up Artist and the Frenchman on the Frog list, and you get to join them at the murky bottom of the dating pond. 

While you're down there, maybe the three of you can put your pretty heads together and see if, between you, you can't figure out how to use a phone.