One periodic addendum I'll be making to this blog -- in true exploratory blog writing fashion -- will be the inclusion of quotes and entries from outside sources.
This little gem below came from my roommate. We maintain a regular discourse about the gentlemen we entertain and in a recent email exchange she retorted with the following:
Remember that game where you held a fishing pole with a magnet on the end and you tried to grab fish out of the circle as they moved around and open and shut their jaw? dating in this city is 1000x hard than that. no one wants to open their mouth unless it's to be filled with pussy.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
To the Bang Up Job
A bit of background before I tell this story. I've been hung up on the same guy for a while. A long while. So on this particular evening I was really looking to give the middle finger, so to speak, to this guy to prove to him (and myself, of course) that "I do what I want!" "I'll make out with whomever I want!" "You are an idiot for not being with me."
Aaron and I run in somewhat concentric professional circles. We bump into each other frequently enough to remember where the other worked when we last spoke, but not enough to remember where the other went to college. He is younger than I am by just two years, but the kid looks like he's about 16. He always sports a Plebeian beanie atop his head and makes one wonder if he ever even graduated high school. But the boyish look really works for him -- impish without any legitimate threat. His rosy cheeks, bright smile, and wide eyes make a great combination that quickly draws me in but then immediately makes me feel naughty for being attracted to it.
We recently ran into each other at an early show. Hugs, big smiles on both ends, mild catching up, passive watching of the band intermittently interrupted by work emails on our respective mobile devices, and then I said goodbye. Always good to see him, but I had a business meeting to get to.
Though apparently I wasn't clear about my later plans because about two hours later I received the follow text from Aaron:
"how is your date? do i need to rescue you?"
Aaron and I run in somewhat concentric professional circles. We bump into each other frequently enough to remember where the other worked when we last spoke, but not enough to remember where the other went to college. He is younger than I am by just two years, but the kid looks like he's about 16. He always sports a Plebeian beanie atop his head and makes one wonder if he ever even graduated high school. But the boyish look really works for him -- impish without any legitimate threat. His rosy cheeks, bright smile, and wide eyes make a great combination that quickly draws me in but then immediately makes me feel naughty for being attracted to it.
We recently ran into each other at an early show. Hugs, big smiles on both ends, mild catching up, passive watching of the band intermittently interrupted by work emails on our respective mobile devices, and then I said goodbye. Always good to see him, but I had a business meeting to get to.
Though apparently I wasn't clear about my later plans because about two hours later I received the follow text from Aaron:
"how is your date? do i need to rescue you?"
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