Last Saturday my former BFF from my L.A. days was in town; she lives in Phoenix now and we haven’t seen each other since 2004 or 2005. She’d E-mailed me the week before that she’d love to get together for dinner and drinks and letting me know that she’d be staying at a hotel out near the airport. I made a reservation at 8:00 p.m. at Ideale for Saturday night and even went so far as to get a good bottle of wine out in preparation. On Thursday she sent a text saying that her son could drop her off at the restaurant, then she’d take a cab back to the hotel. On Saturday afternoon I noticed she’d sent another text saying that she didn’t want to flake, but that she didn’t feel comfortable having her son drive in the rain; also, that the hotel told her a cab from San Francisco would cost $90 (and she was staying in Redwood City or Foster City; don’t remember now). I suggested that she take BART to the airport, then a cab or take Uber, but she thought it best to cancel. It’s true that it had rained on Friday, but nothing out of the ordinary in San Francisco proper. I don’t recall seeing or hearing any rain at all on Saturday during the day. The weather report had said there was a 5% chance of rain after 11:00 p.m. Nevertheless, it was obvious that she wasn’t going to make it for dinner. At first, I was going to cancel the reservation, stay home and save myself the money. After second thoughts, I decided to go out, anyway, and merely changed the reservation. I showed up at Ideale, received my requisite hugs and kisses, and planted myself at the bar. Since I was dining alone, it’s better to sit at the bar than at a table. I ordered burrata and a funghi e salsiccia pizza. They told me that they had a special pork paste from Calabria that they could put on the pizza if I like my food spicy, which I assuredly do. The burrata was wonderful and the pizza was very good; the spice factor didn’t phase me at all! One of the guys that works there makes a salted caramel liquer that I’m addicted to. He apologized for not having any that night, but substituted “mandarine,” a liquer similar to limoncello, which he said was made from tangerines from the owner’s garden. In the meantime, a regular customer, who happens to own a tailor shop across the street, gave me a history lesson on the Philippines. He’s Filipino and mentioned that he was going back for a trip soon. Although I’m mostly Filipino, I know next to nothing about the culture, don’t speak the language, don’t eat the food and have never been there. Historically, I’ve never retained much about the history of the Philippines because, quite honestly, I don’t have much of a desire to go there, much like Japan and Korea. (I only have one Filipino friend.) Anyways… I went out and had a nice dinner, unnecessarily spent money and got a history lesson in what turned out to be a pleasant evening.
On Thursday evening a former co-worker, who was laid off in November, had wanted to meet for Happy Hour drinks. She cancelled via text because her recruiter had set up an interview for her at 2:30 p.m. that day, and she doesn’t live in San Francisco. I was going to a bar/restaurant in Japantown to see a concert, anyway, and it certainly didn’t bother me to go alone. Just in case, though, I sent a text to another friend to see what she was up to. She was in the midst of doing laundry! Thus, I watched the concert myself, chatted with the people that work there, as well as the performer, and had another great evening.
One of my bosses had told me that he had lunch plans this afternoon, followed by an early dinner with his daughter, thus he couldn’t partake in cupcakes that another co-worker and I had picked up. When he ended up NOT going to lunch, I asked him what had happened. He said that the other person had “forgot.” He still turned down the cupcake, though, since he’d already gone out and gotten lunch by himself. I insisted he had plenty of time to down a cupcake before dinner. That’s when he told me that the dinner reservation was at 5:30 p.m. “What?! Are you having the Senior Special?!” I joked. The restaurant is very popular, though, so that was the only time they could get a reservation. And still, I was left with cupcakes.
People in NoCal seem to always be ready to cancel or flake, often without any type of notice/warning whatsoever. Or is it me? Am I that offensive or obnoxious?! (Don’t answer that!) However, being used to this after years of living here, I tend to go out by myself 95% of the time, anyway. I’ve made friends with the majority of waiters and bartenders at the places I frequent, so don’t feel uncomfortable showing up by myself. In fact, to be honest, they give me better treatment (and perks) when I’m alone, as opposed to when friends are with me! So I won’t complain… much… about the continued flakiness of people here. It’s making me expand my horizons beyond that small circle of friends. Heck, I’m thinking of becoming mega-flakey myself!!!