I admit that I was expecting the worst, I admit that freely. I had absolutely no faith. When Friday afternoon arrived and The Irishman still hadn't made reservations for my birthday dinner, and he knew he wouldn't be able to get to it until late Friday night, I was very disappointed. It was ten-minute project, and he didn't do it, and by then it was too late to secure a table at most of the places on my list. Finally I did myself, and then simmered for a few hours. I gave him a LIST! His one job was to choose a restaurant FROM THE LIST and make a reservation. His one task! And he didn't do it! He doesn't care. It's not important to him. He doesn't care about me, I'm just his little weekend amusement.

My cool work friends said, "Okay, it's totally understandable that you're disappointed. BUT! Wait and see what happens tomorrow. He'll show up with a gift, you'll see, or flowers at the very least." "NO, HE WON'T!!!" I said. "He won't even take a few minutes to book a table, and you're telling me you think he'll go SHOPPING??!"

I was dead certain that there would be no gift and certainly no flowers. But see, I had to take that stance. I couldn't take the optimistic stance, and I don't know why no one seems to understand that. Don't these people sometimes find themselves flashing back to past disappointments and lapses in judgement? Haven't they made mistakes they're terrified of repeating? To be fair, I know that my friends have all been through this and want me to benefit from their experience. I do try to take their counsel to heart, but sometimes it's not enough to counter-balance my fears.

Aaaaaaanyway. He picked me up on time. I was in a great mood because I had spent the day with a good friend, and I was determined to relax and enjoy the evening. I was very, very glad to see him, and he kissed me a lot. His gift to me turned out to be two gift certificates, which will be fun to use. The restaurant was lovely and the food was very good. He felt that the waiter deserved an Academy Award for his wild and heartfelt gesticulating. Somewhere between the antipasto and the entrees, he confessed to feeling awful that he hadn't ordered flowers to be sent to my office for my birthday or at the very least picked some up on the way to my apartment. Afterward we went to a going-away party for a guy from my office, and I introduced him to some of my co-workers, and it was a lot of fun. We spent the night in one of the company apartments downtown, and slept very late in a fantastic king-size bed. When I went to take my shower this morning, I said, "Hey! This shower is big enough for two!" Four seconds later he was in the shower with me, saying, "I was going to call my mother, but this seemed like more fun."

I took him to breakfast at a diner in my neighborhood, and for some reason we ended up discussing parenting and discipline over our omelets. We have very similar views. But, on the topic of mayonnaise we are diametrically opposed. He feels that almost every food is improved by the application of mayonnaise, and I do not share this view. If he tries to smear mayonnaise on the brisket at Rosh Hashanah dinner, I will probably throw a round challah at him.

I wanted to ask him if he'll go the G_uster show with me in late October, but instead I asked him go for a walk in the park with me on Tuesday.

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