Don't Cry Over Spilled Wine

It’s 9 pm on a Friday and you are lying in the middle of your living room floor on the rug. The tv plays 90 Day Fiancé in the background and you are half-listening. When you raise your arm and upper back to sip your glass of wine, static ripples along the arm and neck of the flannel pyjamas that you are wearing. The last text message on your phone is from your best friend “Want to hang out tonight?”. You had responded “Sorry, rain check? I have plans tonight.” Lies. Unless plans to watch TLC with your cats counts.

You take another big gulp of wine and sigh. In 2019 you got dumped, in 2020 the global COVID-19 pandemic hit full force and you lost your job, in 2021 things are starting to go back to normal but by now it’s official, you are in a slump. How does one act when they go out in public and socialize? You can’t remember any more and the idea creates knots in your stomach.

You hear retching from the other room. One of your cats is barfing up a hairball. On 90 Day Fiancé, a woman’s fiancé has just arrived in a foreign country to be with her, only to find that she was not entirely honest about the living arrangements – living with her parents, classic. Is this life now? It’s August 2021. Before you know it, it will be 2022. It’s time to get this train that is your life back on the rails.

Just are you are having this thought, a commercial start on tv for the latest dating app. This one promises that you will find a long-term relationship. It’s as good a place to start as any. You open up your phone and download the app. The profile you can perfect later, for now, you just put your name, height and age, a picture from 2 years ago when you were on a wine tour, and a short and hopefully sweet bio “girl next door looking for her next greatest adventure – could it be you? ;)” The winky face was too much, you delete it and hit Save.

Over the next few days, you chat casually with a few men and receive only one unsolicited picture! When you respond to one of the men that you aren’t interested in him, he responds with profanities in cap lock. Mature. It could have gone worse, honestly. It has gone worse before which is why you deleted these apps in the first place!

By Thursday night you are casually scrolling through the dating app at your work-from-home desk when you find Zach. He is 6’3, 30 years old and a pilot. In the picture there are 3 men, making it hard to tell which him is, but all are cute, so you click the heart button. It’s a match floats across your screen and your heart does a little flutter. A couple of minutes later he has messaged you first, “Hey cutie. Where is the first place you went after the pandemic?” Not a bad ice breaker. You respond that you went to your favourite coffee shop to treat yourself. He responds “I love that place! It’s near my apartment. Mine was Chucky Cheese for my nephew’s 5th birthday.” He is a dotting uncle! You are officially charmed, and the conversation flows the entire rest of the day and the next, steadily back and forth.

Saturday by noon, Zach sends you a new message “Any chance that you are free tonight for a drink?” You make yourself wait 30 minutes to respond, you don’t want to seem too eager. When you respond that you are free, he asks you to meet him at a chic cocktail lounge in the downtown core. Most of the rest of your day is spent shaving, plucking, painting, and perusing your closet. By the time 8:00 pm rolls around, you are feeling something you haven’t felt since before the pandemic, sexy. You order an Uber and are on your way to arrive just on time.

Everyone at the tables and the bar is in pairs, so you know that you have arrived first. You decide to sit at the bar, where you will be most easily spotted when Zach arrives. You order a 6oz of Merlot to calm your nerves. The glass feels soothing in your grasp and you start to feel more relaxed after just a few sips. You check your phone “On my way!” Zach had sent it 15 minutes ago. He should be here any minute.

10 minutes pass, then 20 minutes, then 30 minutes. You started to feel self-conscious sitting at the bar alone and now you have finished your glass of merlot. “Another glass, Miss?” asks the bartender. You notice that he has stunning blue eyes. “Um, yes, please.” You respond trying to seem normal. Another 10 minutes passes and you start to accept that you have been stood up. You had messaged Zach to make sure that you had the right place, but he never responded. Tears start to prick your eyes out of embarrassment, frustration, anger, and disappointment. So much for getting out of your slump, you think.

You need to pay your bill and get out of here ASAP but the handsome bartender seems distracted by the cash register at the other side of the bar. Quickly you push your chair back to move towards the other end of the bar and pay your bill. You aren’t waiting any longer. When you go to pick up your clutch, your elbow knocks your unfinished second glass of merlot. The glass goes flying upwards. You can’t get a date, but this glass of wine seems to be able to defy gravity, flying off the counter like a plane taking flight. You suck back your tears, you got this.

As you turn around, you watch in horror as the red wine flies across the air and lands on a man behind you. “I am so, so sorry,” you say, cheeks flaming. You look down to meet the eyes of the man, he is at least two feet shorter than you. He momentarily looks irritated but then covers it up with a smile and asks if you are here to meet Zach.

Confused, you respond “Yes, do you know where he is?”.

“You are looking at him! I have been sitting over in that nook for the past 45 minutes. I saw you but thought ‘That can’t be her, she looks nothing like her profile picture!’”

This has got to be a joke. Whereas your profile picture is from 2 years ago, his must be from 15 years ago. Not to mention the blatant lie about his height. Now you are irritated, but you plaster on a smile and say, “Well I am glad we were finally able to connect.”

A minute later you are both sitting at the nook that he was supposedly sitting at for 45 minutes without recognizing you.

“So, tell me about your work. A pilot! That must be a fulfilling job.”

“Well, actually I was a pilot, as in in the past.” He looks down at his glass and swirls its liquids as he says this.

“I’m so sorry, did you lose your job in the COVID layoffs?”

“No, I was fired a few years back for having a little bit too much fun before my next flight if you know what I mean.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you playfully and it makes your skin crawl.

“I see.” You respond, not wanting to go there. “So, what do you do now?”

“Freelance.” He says this with a tone of finality that makes it obvious you shouldn’t ask any more questions.

“Well, I am one of the lucky ones. I lost my job at the start of the pandemic, but I found a new one fairly quickly and transitioned to completely working from home. I am a software developer.”

“A female software developer!? Prove it.”

You look at him stunned. “Sorry?”

“You don’t hear about women doing that sort of work very often. Any good at it?”

“Yes, quite.”

“Well, I’ll say! You never know where you’ll find women working these days. Who knows, one day we might even have a female Prime Minister.”

“We certainly will. It’s been too long without a woman in the role.” You respond, your patience running out. Who does this guy think he is?

Zach huffs “I don’t know how that would do our economy any good, women are too emotional to run a country.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, here we go. Have I said something wrong? You know we live in a free country, right? Ever heard of freedom of speech?”

You don’t have time for this nonsense. You are a strong, independent woman with much, MUCH better things to do and people to see. “You know, there is a motto I try to live by. It goes ‘Never argue with an idiot, he will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience’.”

You stand up and grab your clutch.

“Whatever, you are stuck up anyways. Learn to take a joke, baby. You gotta know how to take a joke especially when you are gonna show up for a date looking nothing like your profile.” He snorts with a condescending laugh.

“And you sir, are shorter than my 15-year old niece and look older than my father. If you are going to be a catfish someone at least don’t be so pompous.” With that, you turn on your heel purposefully swinging your clutch which grazes his drink, knocking it over into his lap.

You walk up to the bar with your head held high and pay the bartender. The bartender winks and gives you a thumbs up on your way out.

It wasn’t the night you were anticipating and you kind of wish you had been stood up after all. But Zach made you realize something: you don’t need to force romance. You are a Queen and when it happens, it will feel natural and will be on your terms.

In the kitchen of your home, you pour yourself one more glass of merlot to celebrate your inner strength. You are a total boss. In your phone, you delete any trace of any dating apps. Then, you move to your clutch to take out the receipt. You want to put it up on your fridge for a little while to remember when you put that asshole in his place. Something on the back of it catches your eye. It says Josh – Call me if you are interested with a phone number.

The handsome bartender with the sky-blue eyes left you his phone number. Maybe you’ll call him, maybe you won’t. For now, you are just going to enjoy your glass of merlot.