I recently agreed on a date with a girl for the middle of the work-week. The night before, she texted me that she had to reschedule because her grandmother was sick. This was perfectly acceptable. I wished her grandmother well and waited for her to contact me again. Three years later, I decided to stop waiting and went ahead with my life again. I had gained 90 pounds, and had pushed away all of my family and friends in anticipation of our rescheduled date. Once I realized she wasn’t going to contact me again, I went to go get some food.

A little while later, after making a date with a different girl, she texted me a few hours before the date telling me that her dog was murdered. This time, especially after what had happened before, I was skeptical. I was also skeptical because unlike a sick grandmother, which is mostly believable, a murdered dog, though incredibly sad, seems slightly less believable. I told her that I hoped she was okay and this time only waited one year for a response that never came.

A few days ago, twenty minutes before a date, I got a text from the date telling me that she had to reschedule because she had just won the Powerball and was moving to LA. I am not waiting for this one. But seriously, I’m still up for a date. I will even pay. Save your winnings.