Date & Dish

Ok, everyone, I have to vent.  Really vent.

I think when we last left off, I had just spent a “magical evening” with the Great Dane.

Since the Dane was leaving to go to Denmark and needed a place to crash for the weekend, I asked him if he wanted to stay at my place since I’d be away for the weekend in North Carolina.  I usually don’t make those kinds of offers, but I figured, why not be generous?  Especially since he was crashing on someone’s couch.  I figured my place would be much nicer and he’d have it all to himself. 

In addition to the place, I gave the Dane an emergency cell phone to use for the weekend.  Again, not something I would normally do. 

I left the keys for the Dane with the building concierge last Thursday night and took off for the weekend. 

I didn’t hear from him for a while, but get a text on Saturday that said, “Hungover. Will call Sunday.”  I didn’t think anything of it.  Well, Sunday came around and I did not hear anything from the Dane.  I figured I’d give him a call around 2pm, knowing that he was taking off for the airport around 4pm.

The Dane answers my call and says, “Um, Red, I had a little accident in your apartment.”

My heart sinks and I brace myself.  “Ok,” I say, “What happened?”

“Well, I spilled red wine all over your (white) bed.  And then I tried to clean it up using toilet paper.  I tried to flush it all, but I wound up clogging the toilet.  It’s not big deal, really. I’m sure you can get that fixed.”

I said, “Let me get this straight, you are leaving me with dirty sheets and a clogged toilet?”  To which he responds, “Well, it was just an accident. Imagine how bad *I* feel.”

I cannot begin to even tell you what went through my head.  But I kept my cool and just told him to leave my keys and cell phone downstairs.  And then I hung up. 

Honestly, I felt nauseous.  This is a person I naively trusted.  He wasn’t even going to tell me about all of this.  After all, I was the one who had to call him.  I was really distracted the rest of Sunday and hoped that the damage was isolated to the sheets and toilet.  A ton of scenarios crossed my mind.  What if he had done other things and hadn’t told me about it?  What if some of my things went missing?  Needless to say, I was a mess when I came home.

When I walked into the apartment, I found a post-it note saying, “Sorry honey.  By the way, you mis-spelled my last name when you left the keys with the concierge.”

Are you freakin’ kidding me???  I mis-spelled his name?

I took a deep breath and surveyed the damage.  Yep, the toilet was clogged, the sheets were stained, there were several wine glasses missing (I’m assuming they were broken), my food was eaten and dirty towels left all over….  I guess it could have been much worse, really.  But this felt pretty bad. 

I learned a huge lesson here.   Let’s hope what goes around, comes around.