THE HOOK UP DISASTER

He was holding a handwritten card with her name written across it. Debbie noticed him as soon as he entered the café. Besides being overweight and short, he had a clothing tag clearly out of place climbing up the back of his neck. And his suit looked like something out of date you’d only find at a Goodwill store. No way could she be seen with him, even if he did have two tickets to a Broadway hit play. There were standards a girl had to uphold, no matter what she had promised her best friend.

The man approached her. “Are you Debbie?

He's drop dead gorgeous and rich to boot, Ellen had said about her friend from Boston. It was clearly obvious, she had outright lied. No wonder he didn't have a date to the play. How could her best friend have done this to her?

“No,” she said, not making eye contact.

“Sorry. I was told to look for a woman wearing a yellow dress and red heels.”

Mental note to self: Never describe to your best friend what you will be wearing to meet a blind date.

“Popular color combo this season,” she said, hoping he would take the hint she had no intentions of going with him.

He nodded and walked toward the back of the restaurant scanning the room, apparently for another women dressed like her. She couldn’t believe he could be that stupid. Moments later, he put a cell phone to his ear as he exited the restaurant through the same door he had entered.

Good. He had given up. No need to take a chance he would wait for her outside. She left through the exit on the opposite side of the restaurant and hailed a Taxi. Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID. It was him. She let it ring. How did he get her number? Damn you, Ellen. Safely in the cab and on the way to her apartment, she looked at the message indicator on her phone. What kind of message does a dummy leave? She pushed the play message option.

“Hi, Debbie. It’s Harrell.  I just got out of my meeting. I had a few last minute contract details to finish up with my client. I was running a little late  so I sent my my chauffeur to the restaurant to give you a ride to my client's office where I had hoped to catch up with you. I didn't want you to think I had stood you up. When he couldn't find you, I called Ellen to get your cell phone number. She said something must have come up, because nothing short of a death in the family would have kept you from going to see that play. Ellen told me so much about you. I was really looking forward to meeting you. But not to worry, my client’s secretary has offered to go with me. Sorry we couldn’t hook up.”