Speaking of indignant men, I just received an email from one, unrightfully so. He asked me out to dinner earlier this week. I declined. And by “asked” I mean he sauntered into my office, and told me he is taking me out to dinner on Friday. Um… no. As I went back to doing whatever it is I was doing (I am sure it was very important!), he picked up a pad of paper, wrote down the time and venue and handed it to me stating “I will see you then.” Um… no. Really, you won’t. He was walking out when I reminded him I wouldn’t be there.

I tried being very nice about it, stating I wasn’t really feeling up to it, and all that, but as he was walking away, I made my intentions very clear. At least I think I did.

So he just emailed me to let me know how disappointed he was that I stood him up, and had not previously realized how unreliable I was. Unreliable?? First of all, I am pedantically punctual to every occasion, with profuse apologies if I am running even a few moments late. Secondly, I did *exactly* what I said I was going go do, and that is, not show up.

Then he had the audacity to offer me the “opportunity” to “make it up” to him. How about no? To any and all of the above.

I want to reply, but I won’t. I am obviously angry and lacking tact at the moment. Not to say I am overflowing with tact on a regular basis, as my foot practically lives in my mouth, but my usual faux pas are far more harmless than what I would like to write to him right now.

In the meantime my wedding ring is going *right* back on my finger. While I am at it I will also start carrying random pictures of George Clooney. I mean, if I am going to pretend to be married, then George is the obvious solution.