alright then. that date.

ok ok, it's just because I couldn't face the bloody music, that's why I didn't say anything, but here we go...

... Saturday 02.30am, phone call - are we still going out? Sure we are, I say, and go back to sleep.
... Saturday 2pm, text message - what you up to? Hanging around I say, having a shower, this and that. Couple of texts following discussing when and where to meet.
... Saturday 5.30 pm, text message - how about Brixton? 8.30pm? Cool, I say, see you there.
... Saturday 6.30pm, text message - Don't feel well, can't make it, will make up for it.

WTF? I thought, fuck off then. The problem was, I was sitting at my mates' kitchen table having right a laugh, when the last one arrived. So they thought I was going to a date, and I knew he just pulled out. What next?

a) tell them he's just pulled out.
yeah right, and then let them take the mickey all night

b) lie.
fucking off early so they think I still have a date, go home and feel awful because I lied to them

Well, I chose b).

Anyway... He sent me a couple of text the next day apologizing and that, basically asking for another chance, so... Don't know yet. Probably... most probably... anyway.