Waiting for love is like waiting for death; or, it's another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody

2:53 p.m. I call Pelof and Mary to see what’s going on tonight. They aren’t picking up, so I leave a message at the beep, and as soon as I hang up, my phone rings. It’s my sister-in-law, Dawn, and she and Jerimy want to know what I’m doing tonight. Nothing. She suggests dinner and we agree to talk about where later on. Excellent.

4:34 p.m. I’ve spent all day running errands, and I’m finally home when Jerimy calls. He wants to go somewhere where he can get a good dinner and a side salad. Very insistent on the side salad. He suggests The Shack, a supper club. I suggest a trendier pub. He wants to know if they serve side salads. I don’t know. We go back and forth, neither one of us liking the others’ suggestions, until I get frustrated and tell him to forget it. They can go without me.

5:37 p.m. My parents have an overstuffed leather chair where I’ve set up post under a blanket. My dog was at their house all day, so I headed down there to pick her up and ended up on the chair. I’m wearing a good outfit for going out, and I still have my bra on, even, in the odd chance that Jerimy will call and say that he changed his mind; the side salad isn’t all that important, after all. But I’ve hunkered down under the blanket, and my mom is asking me where we’re going, and when I tell her we’re not, she’s not happy. She tells me that I’m not going to meet anyone sitting at their house. I tell her that I’m not going to meet anyone eating a side salad at The Shack, where the average age of their patrons is 63.

5:56 p.m. The parents have gone to pick up a pizza and a movie. My job is to turn the oven on at 6:15 to preheat. I make hot chocolate, and then dump in some Peppermint Schnapps.

6:15 p.m. Top Chef on Bravo is rather engaging. Miraculously, I remember to turn on the oven.

7:22 p.m. Pelof calls, but I don’t answer. My parents have brought home the movie Click with Adam Sandler and we’re halfway through. When I finally listen to the message, he says that they’re heading to one of the fine local watering holes. I decide I’m too invested in the movie to go.

8:43 p.m. I am crying. The Adam Sandler character is dying and telling his son, “Family… family is what’s important…” and the tears are literally streaming down my face. I feel run over by a truck.

9:34 p.m. After running through several of the DVD’s special features, I decide it’s time to head home with the dog.

10:54 p.m. I’m tired, getting ready to do some recreational reading and then some sleeping. “The Jazz Image” is on MPR. In hindsight, maybe The Shack wouldn’t have been so bad. A 63-year-old is probably just about my speed.