Blame it on the Universe

"I'm late!"

I finished drying off, splashed some cologne, smeared deodorant, and brushed my teeth.

She expected me to be there to help calm her nerves. How in the world did I lose track of time? I'm never late.

I jumped into my clothes and dashed out the door. I tried starting my car but had forgotten my keys. What's wrong with me? I never forget my keys.

Between losing track of time and forgetting my keys, I was beginning to believe the universe was trying to tell me something. I don't believe in coincidences.

Keeping the speedometer under ninety was difficult, but the fear of a ticket restrained me. I exited the highway and couldn't believe what I saw—night construction.

"Are you kidding me!? I'm late enough as it is!" I screamed to nobody.

The concert started in five minutes. I tapped the steering wheel while staring down at the flagman. How did this happen? I'm never late. She's going to have my head.

After what seemed like an eternity, the flagman waved me forward. I slowly proceeded, fighting the urge to floor it. I painstakingly emerged from the construction zone and kicked it into high gear. The concert hall was only a few blocks away.

I rushed inside and almost ran into a bored-looking man blocking my path. He asked for my ticket. I reached into my back pocket – nothing. I searched all my pockets – twice – still no ticket.

"I had it here, somewhere."

The man remained silent.

"I must have left it in my car. I'll be right back."

I ran to my car and frantically searched everywhere without finding it. There was only one place I hadn't looked: the glovebox. But it can't be there. I never use it for anything but the owner's manual. Nevertheless, it was in my glovebox. How odd. The universe must be trying to tell me something. Could it be about Cassandra?

I returned with my ticket and handed it to the bored-looking man. The foyer echoed with music. She already knew I was late. It's not like I could hide in the second row.

An usher escorted me to my row. I side-slid across the aisle, ignoring the dirty looks. As soon as I sat, I scanned the stage for her. She sat near the front wearing the white sparkly gown I suggested. She looked stunning.

Suddenly, she made eye contact with me, glowing with anger. She did this while playing her violin and without dropping her stage smile. It was unnerving. 

I broke eye contact, feeling like a puppy who just peed on the carpet. Cassandra has a way of belittling me with just a sideways glance. I didn't want to come in the first place. I don't even like classical music. I'd rather attend an Oklahoma City Thunder game. But you have to make sacrifices for a woman of her caliber.

The night droned on and on, one wordless song after another. I tried to pay attention, but my mind kept wandering. Is this what I have to look forward to if we get serious? Going to concerts and fancy parties with bourgeois snobs?

It wouldn't be all bad if she supported me in the things I'm passionate about, like basketball, fishing, hiking, and camping trips. A healthy relationship is all about giving and taking. However, the more I thought about it, I can't think of one time she watched a game with me or talked about fishing, camping, or hiking. We always talk about her interests.

There's a reason I showed up late tonight. The universe purposefully made me late. It knows I don't want to be here. Truthfully, I'd rather watch paint dry than listen to this. It's beginning to mess with my head. I miss cheering for a slam dunk, spilling popcorn over everything, and dancing to bumper music with fun people. These stuffed shirts are so dull they make clapping sound depressing.

Oh no. Cassandra is looking at me. I nodded and smiled. How long has she been watching me? Did I have my eyes closed? Could she tell I was daydreaming? I maintained eye contact until I saw her give me a sideways glance. She's even angrier. I've never noticed before, but she can be a bit bougie. The universe has shown me things about Cassandra I hadn't seen before.

I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. I tried acting the part of a supportive boyfriend, but my mind couldn't get away from me showing up late. I'm the guy who is thirty minutes early to work, three hours early for flights, and half a day early to games. The universe has to be telling me something. And it's something about Cassandra. I looked at her serious face as she played her violin. I'm nothing like her. I'm the class clown. What does a classical violinist and a clown have in common? Forget that she's the most beautiful woman I've ever dated. That's not enough.

I looked at her again, and she looked back with that same sideways glance. It wasn't a pretty look. It was the first time I saw anything ugly in Cassandra. I wanted to curse the universe for pointing it out, but I knew it was only trying to save me. I finally relented. I don't want to see that sideways glance for the rest of my life.

The universe hasn't steered me wrong before. I'd be a fool to ignore everything it has done tonight. It made me lose track of time. It made me forget my keys. It made sure I ran into night construction. It made me forget my ticket and put it in the glovebox. It could not be more apparent that the universe was telling me to break up with Cassandra. 

I took a deep breath and stood while taking one long look at Cassandra. She pretended not to see me, but I saw her eyes – I know she saw me. I excused myself, making just enough noise to annoy the stuffed shirts. I felt Cassandra's sideways glance burn a hole in my back. But I didn't care. I planned on breaking up tonight and would never have to see that ugly look again.

I passed the bored man and walked out into freedom. I drove to Cassandra's apartment and waited to break up in person. She wouldn't be here for an hour or so. I smiled as I thought out loud, "It's good to be early again."