Sunday: May/25/08
Who: Reese and Ingrid When: Sunday night into Monday night Where: heading into Boston What: a date?
Standing in the parking lot, ass pressed against the driver's side door of his car, Reese checked his watch. An hour ago, he'd sent Ingrid a text telling her where to meet him. He'd given her plenty of warning, right? They'd talked about going out the other night, he'd mentioned what kind of clothes she should wear. Didn't take him much time at all to pick some dark jeans and a fitted white cotton shirt. What the hell was the hold up on her end? It was dark. Time to fucking party!
Finally, the sound of heels clicking on the pavement caught his attention. Reese peeled himself away from the car to spin around and see one fine woman walking toward him. "'Bout time. I was beginning to think I'd been stood up." Not really. Though he was starting to wonder if Ingrid was Italian. Those women were never on time for ANYTHING! They routinely showed up three hours late, no apology or excuse, and then got defensive when you bitched. He bought a watch for one woman he'd dated over there, and she actually took offense, saying Italians don't operate on Eastern Standard Time. Bitch didn't even put out until the fifth date, and it wasn't all that great!
Ingrid was better than great though, so Reese would tolerate a decent bit of abuse from her. She could show up a week late, and he'd probably still be waiting.