The 'Stan, then.
I was going to take D out to eat last night, yes, a date. I had it semi-planned. I told her we were going one place, but then we were going to go somewhere else. (Icon!) It was going to be a really nice time, where we could just eat, talk, maybe forget for a little while we were in the 'Stan, then come back watch a movie or something.
About 3:30, the e-mail comes out. "Due to heightened security concerns, all travel into the city is restricted."
Enter Russ' anger at stupid people.
D was disappointed, too. I tried to get her to look on the bright side of it, that she gets to join an exclusive club of people whose first date got canceled because of security, but I don't think the line was delivered with particularly good timing on my part.
So, we had spaghetti in the dining hall, Wall's ice cream, snickers and oreo wafer cookies, and watched Batman Begins (which we both like) and Ratatoutile (or however you spell it). Low key and not as exciting as getting to go out on a real date, but still good. We talk and tell little stories during the movie, so it's an interactive experience.
Still... life in this town. Sigh. I told D that now she gets to join the club wherein both parties travel halfway around the world so she can have her first date.
Today is a short day, and then tomorrow I fly out. I refuse to acknowledge that it could snow, and I am confident that I'll get out on Thursday, that D will get out on Friday, that I'll make all my flights just fine and will get to see my boys play on Saturday against Manhattan, that D will make it back and we'll get to have our real date whilst in the States.
Anyone else have any tragic first date stories to share?
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
The 'Stan, then.