"Let's Meet Up Soon!" (Or Never?): The Chronicles of Serial No-Shows

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and there I was, sitting alone at a trendy Mumbai cafe, waiting patiently for Rahul- again. You see, Rahul has perfected the fine art of promising meetings without ever actually showing up. Over the past four months, we've arranged five meetings, all cheerfully planned by Rahul with immense enthusiasm and absolute certainty. Yet, each time, I'm left staring at empty chairs, half-empty coffee cups, and sympathetic glances from the waiters, who probably assume I've been cheated on dates repeatedly.

This particular day, the café owner, who now greets me by name and offers me a complimentary biscuit out of sheer pity, finally asked, "Sir, does your friend really exist?" At that moment, I honestly wasn't sure.

Let’s face it

We've all got that one friend, colleague, or client who's absolutely fantastic at making plans. They're enthusiastic, charming, and convincing—until the time comes to actually show up. Then, they're as elusive as Mumbai's monsoon sunshine.

Take my friend from a leading MNC bank. He once confided with absolute irritation, "You know, I called this female client twice. Both times he promised he'd come, but never did. Now, I delete their number instantly. Even if I see him on the street, I pretend he's invisible. Who has time for such disrespect? At least pick up my call and tell me you're cancelling."

If that seems harsh, my neighbour had his own tragicomedy to share. With the flair of a Bollywood villain, he sighed, "I invited a girl over, yaar. Cleaned the house like a Diwali deep-cleaning mission, scrubbed the toilets as if my Sasuma (mother-in-law) was coming for an inspection, sprayed enough room freshener to make it smell like a five-star hotel, and even changed the curtains and bedspread- you know, just in case!"

And then? Silence. No calls, no texts. Just me, staring at my ultra-fresh house like an idiot. Some even switch off their phones entirely—bhagwan kasam, this is next-level wickedness!"

To which I cheerfully added, "Hey, at least your house got cleaned!"

Then there’s Rajesh, my ex-colleague, now stuck in the IT department of a large bank, who faced his own award-winning disaster. Rajesh, being the eternal optimist, decided to invite his habitually absent friend Sameer—the only singer in his entire friend circle—for his birthday party.

To set the mood, Rajesh went all out—ordered a custom cake, brought out special wine, decked up his house like it was Shaadi.com’s dream wedding setup, and even rented a karaoke machine, all for Sameer’s grand performance.

And then? You guessed it...yes, Sameer ghosted him.

Excuses and excuses...

Guess what? Even the excuses these serial no-shows offer can range from bizarre to hilariously absurd. From "my dog ate my car keys," to "I was trapped in an elevator that only went to odd-numbered floors," and then "something came up so suddenly that I totally forgot about our meeting" - the creativity behind their justifications deserves applause. Sometimes, their stories are so outlandish and funny that you momentarily forget your frustration, leaving you laughing in disbelief and wondering if it's even humanly possible to experience such peculiar misadventures regularly

We laugh, but beneath the humour, there's an undeniable truth: being stood up repeatedly isn't funny; it's frustrating and disrespectful.

We all have one friend, colleague, or client who's absolutely fantastic at making plans. They're enthusiastic, they're convincing, and they mean well- at least initially. But their inability to follow through speaks louder than words. When they fail to deliver, it makes me question their reliability. Repeatedly failing to honour promises sends a clear message: you can't be trusted.

Let's put jokes aside for a moment—being stood up repeatedly isn't funny; it's frustrating and disrespectful.

Let’s take a step back and recognise:

Repeated broken commitments signal deeper reliability issues. If you regularly fail to honour promises, eventually people stop trusting you. Like my banker friend, others will start to quietly delete your number—professionally, socially, even personally.

Imagine you're pitching for a crucial project. Your reputation precedes you—clients, partners, and colleagues begin doubting your commitment, wondering whether you'll deliver. What started as a casual disregard for social engagements now directly impacts your credibility and professional advancement.

Even socially, this pattern creates friction. If circumstances change, communicate proactively. A simple call or message can save someone from wasted efforts or feelings of disrespect. People remember how you handle these moments, and their trust in you either grows or diminishes accordingly.

Rahul, if you're reading this, please confirm you exist.