The Flying Dutchman came and left in a whirlwind, literally speaking.
He swept in on me on our first date at Bar Stop. In between glasses of moscato, strawberry mojito, gin tonic and rum and coke, we were giggling and flirting outrageously. It wouldn’t be fair to just blame the alcoholic influences, although it did help … greatly. He was easy to talk to, being one with much more life experience than I had. His job made it easy for him to put anyone at ease. I was relaxed, the environment made it conducive for a first date, much much better than KPO down the road which was overflowing with a human crowd that I wouldn’t have the nerves to go through.
He must have liked me since he asked me for a second date out. He was here for two nights so we agreed on nine outside Zouk. Nine came and went then Ten was here. I kept calling his hotel room to check where (the fuck) he would have been. Amidst the crowd of angsty teens queuing their way to a DJ show with their friends, I felt incredibly lonely. Awful thoughts rang through my mind.
I wonder if he got into an accident.
Did we say we’ll meet at nine or did I imagine it?
Could he have found someone more fun and ditch me?
Was it a mistake?
Did he regret last night?
And basically, I was psychotically ripping myself apart inwardly. I was a bag of nerves. I felt silly for thinking that he thought the same way I did. No, I wasn’t in love with him but at least I thought I was sure he enjoyed my company as I did his. Fucking caucasians, all of them the same. I felt used but I was determined to have a little more faith this time round. So I waited as long as I did. When I gave up hope, I tried to call my friends out but all of them were preoccupied and destitute, I reached the alphabet ‘K’ and dialed hopelessly. Turned out K was at the very same hotel I was standing outside attending a wedding dinner! Wait for me, she instructed so I did at the Piano Bar, having a bubbly peach which made me warm and uncomfortable. When she came to collect me, I could have wept with joy. She sent me home and we sat down to talk at the void deck even though she had church service the next morning. I could have kissed her.
Before she left, she asked “Don’t you think it’s God’s Will that we were at the same place when you called?” I couldn’t answer. I didn’t believe in a God but certainly, it was a coincidence. When I was back at home, mentally tired out by the disappointment, I checked into my hotmail account and felt my heart leaped when I saw a new email. From him. It turned out that he left me an email earlier, saying that he couldn’t make it because he had to replace a sick coworker to fly that night. He had emailed me from the airport, saying that he was planning on having the second fantastic night out with me and he was sorry that he couldn’t due to the change in events. I whooped with joy, not because he said he might be back soon but because I didn’t want to believe that someone would so cruelly stood up another no matter what the circumstances were. As I turned towards my makeshift bedside table, a title caught my eye which would sum up the night’s events.
Have a little faith, it said.
