Two weeks ago, the detective asked me to go out for breakfast on Sunday. We were to talk on Saturday afternoon to firm up plans. I left him a voice mail early Saturday afternoon. The detective went MIA. I made other plans for Sunday as I’m not about to sit at home at wait for a man to call.
Last Friday, I texted the detective to see if he was still alive. He was. He asked me to have lunch on Sunday. I agreed to have lunch. I didn’t bring up the previous weekend as that was a conversation I wanted to have in person. I told the detective to pick me up at noon on Sunday.
I had a most enjoyable time at lunch. I always have fun with him. The detective told about the circumstances that caused him to blow me off the previous weekend. I told him my friends don’t treat me that way. If he wanted to be my friend he had to treat me with respect. If he does it again, he’s out of my life. I spoke in a calm and deliberate manner. The detective had a deer in the headlights look. It was as if he’d never been called out for his poor behavior. He apologized and agreed to never blow me off again. If he had to cancel plans, he’d text or call. Mission accomplished. And then the detective paid for lunch.