Rock the Beat

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For some strange reason there are socially acceptable jokes made all the time about women being late for dates, but there aren’t any for guys. Take my boyfriend, Jackson Cruze, for example. He’s stunningly has a face like Channing Tatum, a body that David Beckham would be envious over, and the time management skills of a well-trained baboon. The guy couldn’t be on time if it saves his life.

I check my watch again and sigh. Surely he won’t forget to pick me up tonight? We’ve had this date planned for two-year anniversary for some time now. He’s not that big of a jerk, is he?

I pull out my cell and call my best friend, Max, while I wait. Like clockwork, he answers on the second ring and I ask, “Where are you?”

Max laughs into the phone while the sounds of a wild party fill in behind him. “I’m at Paulo’s. Why aren’t you here? This is the biggest end of summer bash I’ve ever seen. You got to get your ass over here.”

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