I got stood up on a date last nite.
Like “sitcom” stood up. Like “waiting at an empty bar, ‘No, bartender I’ll wait until my date gets here,’ checking for texts and voicemails in between games of cell-phone Solitaire” stood up.
Yeah.
I was working out of town over the weekend, and I was exhausted, but I woke up early yesterday to drive home so I could wash my hair and take a nap before this date. I put on makeup for this date. And heels. I missed Letterman on “Oprah’s Next Chapter” for this date. If not for wasting my time and messing with my sleep schedule, I’m at least owed an apology for that, right?
I met the stander-upper after one of my shows. He referenced my bit (below) about the guy who peed in front of me on a first date and then asked me out.
“I can’t do any worse than that, right?” he said.
Wrong.