I take a quick look at my phone to make sure it’s exactly 8 p.m. We agreed to meet at 9, but its better to be early, right? The waitress impatiently looks at me every two minutes. I have been here since 7 p.m., but I can’t be late for this date. Its my first date since my breakup last summer. And with my psychiatrist telling me that time is not on my side, I have to stay punctual.

8:10 p.m.

The waitress walks over to me and with a forced smile asks if I would like to order now. I tell her, for the fifth time, that I am waiting for my date to arrive. She sighs and informs me that the restaurant gets busy on Saturday nights, and they need the table for real customers.

“I guess I could order a bottle of wine and some breadsticks, but make it small. I don’t want my date to think I’m an alcoholic or something. You know, I’m almost 35, I need to settle down with a good man soon”

The waitress nods and walks away. A couple minutes after, the wine and breadsticks arrive. The wine tastes cheap, and the breadsticks are stale.

Why did I even agree to meet at such a restaurant?

8:20 p.m.

“I need you to start listening to me, I told you I hate going out to eat like this”, I hear the woman sternly tell the man next to her as they both sit at the table next to me.

“I apologize for trying to do good things for you; I’m such a bad fucking boyfriend for wanting to go out from time to time”

How annoying.

I call over the waitress and ask her to change my table, but she informs me, yet again, that the restaurant is packed with people.

“But what if my date get irritated quickly? I need this date to go perfectly because, as I had told you, I am almost 35, I need to settle down with a good man. You know, I bet he’s tall and handsome.”

The waitress tiredly smiles and tells me that she will inform her manager.

8:30 p.m.

“For once can we enjoy a meal without you turning everything on yourself.” The man continues to argue

I sigh loud enough for them to take a glance at me, but continue to argue.

Some of us are trying to be ready for their dates.

I call over the waitress again

“You can’t possibly let me sit here! These two are driving me insane!”

“Who?” The waitress asks

And I turn to the table next to me to find it empty.

Huh. When did they leave?

“Well thank God they decided to take their argument out of here. My date will be here any minute, I need to be in a good mood for him. He’s an architect you know? And I bet he’s going to propose tonight. As you know, I am almost 35, and I need to settle down with a good man soon.”

The waitress smiles while nodding. Clearly uninterested in knowing more about my boyfriend, she asks me when will he arrive and I tell her he should be here any time now. He likes being early.

8:50 p.m.

“Work keeps me away from you, and all I want is to spend some time with you. But I keep getting the idea that you’re just settling for me. As if I’m not good enough for you. I have proposed almost three times already, each time you say no. And now you keep pushing me farther away, what else am I supposed to do?”

Ugh. Breakup already; some of us are going to get married soon.

“Maybe you should just leave. Clearly, you’re too good for me, so what’s the point of holding on to me?” The woman stands up from the table and stomps away.

The man sighs. His shoulders droop down. He raises a finger and calls for the waitress

“Cheque please.”

Finally.

9:10 p.m.

The waitress walks over to me. She asks me to leave for I have been here for far too long. I tell her that my husband is on his way. He must be having some difficulties at work. I decide to call him. One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

“Hello?” He answers

“Um yes, I thought we agreed to meet at 9, is everything okay?”

“We already met, at 7…”

“Oh right.”

“You stormed out of the restaurant, remember?”

“Yeah…”

“Are you okay? I thought you made it clear that you don’t want to be with me because I’m too good for you or something. Is this one of your games because I’m done playing around with you. Goodbye.”

9:20 p.m.

The waitress comes over, again. She asks me if my date is coming any time soon, and I tell her that we broke up. Again.

“Can I get the cheque, please?”