I had a lunch appointment last week with someone I have been avoiding all year. It's not a dramatic story, she's an old family friend, and the reason I avoid her is that she takes a lot of pleasure in being mean and critical, and if that's not reason enough, she also talks incessantly about herself. But I momentarily forgot all that, and accepted a lunch date with her last week. She e-mailed me four times before the scheduled day, to ensure that I'd remember, and each time I wrote back, "I'll be there!" although with admittedly less enthusiasm each time.

On the agreed-upon day, I walked over to the Pacific Cafe, and told the man at the door that I was meeting a friend. He walked with me to look around the cafe, and when I didn't see her (I'll call her Jane), he invited me to sit and wait, which I did. I told the waitress who approached that I was waiting for a friend, and I kept the menu on the table, and my eye on the door. I never saw her.

Finally, nearly twenty minutes after I'd arrived, I decided Jane had been delayed, and I ordered lunch, ate, and left. As I walked out to the street, I looked around the patio, on the outside chance I'd missed her and she'd failed to see me inside. She wasn't there, and I didn't see her car. I figured I'd write and see what happened, something like, "Hey! I must have gotten the date wrong..." or like that. Noncommittal.

A half hour or so after I got back to my desk, I got an e-mail from Jane, with the subject line "What happened????" The multiple question marks immediately set my teeth on edge. I opened the message, and read, "Violet: What happened today? What prevented you from keeping our 1:00 appointment?"

You know... that would not have been my first choice for how to word such an inquiry. And all it did was remind me why I've avoided this person all year.

I wrote back and explained what had happened, but I got the sense that she didn't believe that I'd really been there. So I did the smartest thing: I rescheduled for next month. (I know, I am an idiot, I already know.)

When I told Giuliana about it that night, she shook her head and, pouring another glass of ginger vodka, said, "Violet, stop complaining about these people. Cut them out of your life." Stop complaining!? But that's my main hobby! Oh, and if only she weren't right. I know she's obviously right. Already, Jane has written me three e-mails telling me the new plan for our lunch date. It's like this, so try and follow along: when I get to the restaurant, WAIT IN THE BAR for her. Then, we will ask the waiter to seat us together. It's a novel idea, but it just might work.

If I decide to show up.

Star of the day. . .