Girl Gone Wild: Is patience necessarily a virtue?

By Loki Ferris

It was my mission to rent a movie I didn't have to use any brain cells to think about. I like movies like that sometimes. I like to wind down with a glass of merlot and a video when I'm not writing or just need a break. So Mr. Mojito came over and I popped in a movie, only to be told by him, "I'm not ready, I'm reading..."

Oh, so sorry, you're READING. My apologies. I thought we were going to watch a movie. I thought THAT'S WHY I RENTED ONE, dammit! But instead of erupting like Mount St. Loki, I acquiesced and let the literate man become more literate with the likes of Chuck Bukowski.

If he was reading Huxley or Nietzsche, I might have argued for the reason of mental rot that there was no argument; we were going to watch Mean Girls. I wanted to do something frivolous, and I knew that Tina Fey had written the screenplay. But I like Chuck, and I like Mr. Mojito, so I left it alone with a mere, "Let me know when you're ready--because I am," as I cracked open my Picasso biography. I read only semi-attentively since I was still reeling from his comment.

I'm a voracious reader myself, and had asked myself at that point: "Would I act like such a primadonna if I wanted to do something other than what is on the agenda? Or was I inflating his statement with my own projection? I can understand the desire to finish a good book. I remember reading Wuthering Heights everywhere I went, every chance I had, because of my insatiable goal of finishing the book.

Then I had to ask myself at that point: "Was I guilty of overanalyzing? To him, there wasn't anything to analyze. To him it's purely "I'm reading." That should be it, right?

At that moment, I felt a familiar tinge in my stomach telling me that my presence was being taken for granted. Who has ever heard of a man making a woman wait to see a stupid movie? He had taken a manipulative glove off and slapped me across the face with it. I asked a question, he replied: "I'm not ready. Maybe in 10 minutes."

I don't know any woman who likes to be kept waiting. I hate waiting. I like to always have reading or writing material on me in case I'm ever caught in a line. This is no different. Was I overanalyzing or was he seriously trying to manipulate me? Am I always going to be in a different gear than all the men I meet? Why can't I find a man who hates waiting just like I do and returns the respect for my time? When I'm out, I'm here and there and everywhere. When I'm at home, I rarely watch TV or talk on the phone. I don't like doing anything that isn't productive, but once in a while I treat myself to a shitty movie just so my brain can relax.

There are enough things going on in my life that I must wait for because it's beyond my control, but to be forced to wait after planning a movie night was beyond irritating! Was I looking for a way to be mad at him so I could like him less and less and be rid of him sooner?

I began to get mad at myself for allowing the pattern to continue. What seemed like a petty thing festered into other areas not too long after this incident. There have been times I have waited for him as he showed up an hour later than expected because he had to stop by the bar. Making me wait because he had an appointment with Jim Beam (which is another issue altogether), making me wait for a phone call, making me wait for his moodiness to lift, etc.

My friends tell me to make a man wait to equalize power. What bullshit is that? I refuse to play waiting games so I can manipulate them into thinking they are blessed with my presence. I say, if a man isn't ready, whatever it may be, don't wait! Live without--because someday, someone will come along that won't take you for granted by making you wait for anything.

Send your questions and comments to loki@lasvegasmercury.com.