Friday, May 16, 2008

On squee'ing like a blooming idiot yet again

So today was the big day, and it's 2:17 in the bloody morning, my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton balls, and I really ought to just get in bed and sleep, but I really, really wanted to get on here and put this down before the moment is lost.

God, where to start? Well, Sherry and I went out drinking like we'd planned. Jess did, indeed, still feel like an ambulatory ball of pestilence and rot, so she opted to go home instead of coming out with us. I exaggerate here - it sounds like I'm suggesting she was a shambling mound shedding disease at every turn. She really just felt like crap and looked a bit wan, is all. Anyway, Sherry and I went out and had drinks at the West Side Brewery. She gave me a brief lesson on the difference between lagers, ales, and stouts, and we mostly made lewd comments to each other the entire afternoon while I fretted endlessly about the date with The Boy tonight. (Yes, we've decided to just call him The Boy for now, rather than that heinous acronym.)

Oh! The reason we actually were drinking at 3:00 in the afternoon (which is so incredibly white trash / hick that I'm sitting here cringing just thinking about it, and I'm imagining everything I'm typing up to be spoken with a heavy Appalachian accent) is that Philip, whom I work for, was holding a birthday party for his 7 year-old granddaughter. And her 30 friends. As Sherry and I were walking out of his apartment we commentated on the numerous children heading up to the apartment. I think we got out just in time, because otherwise I'm pretty sure we'd have been mowed under fairly quickly by a swarm of midgets. There were at least 10 adults supervising the party, but my money remains on the rugrats.

Anyway - Sherry helped me pick out a flower after we drank. It ended up being kind of a bulbous monstrosity anyway - a bright yellow and orange tulip on a stem that was probably two feet long. It could have been used as a bludgeoning instrument if it weren't so floppy. I had a major brain malfunction and didn't ask for the stem to be cut - I think because I liked the two little leaves jutting out near the bottom - and it wasn't really until we were in the subway that I realized how ridiculous it would be for him to carry this thing throughout the evening. Well, I had my bag, and I'm sure we could've stowed it if it became really inconvenient.

So I get to the Thai restaurant I'd scoped out earlier - Pam Real Thai Encore (I know. Did they draw magnet poetry out of a hat or something when they named the place?) I'd never actually been there, but I checked it out online and it had good reviews for a decent price. Anyway, in spite of a miscommunication in which I briefly feel like I've been tossed into the Twilight Zone, we meet up. Being the stealthy son of a bitch that I am, I manage to sneak up on him yet again, this time while he's reading a menu, and give him my flower without feeling too much like a buffoon. His reaction is about what I'd expected - flattered, but a bit unsure how to manage the flower for the rest of the evening. I really should've gone with the orange rose. That was comparatively small, compact, but still stunning and just about perfect.

Anyway, we spent a lovely time at Pam Real Thai Encore (I'm still not tired of saying that). The food was indeed excellent, as advertised, and his company was delightful. I'd actually typed up sort of a summary of the evening, but subsequently decided that I don't particularly want to go into details right now and deleted it all. Let's just say that he surprised me a couple of times, quite pleasantly, and I wasn't nearly as much of a ninny in that regard as I was on our last date. I will say, however, that we decided on our way out of the theatre that there will be a third date. We don't know when or what we'll be doing, but there will be one, and that makes me very happy.

So in conclusion...I'm awfully taken with The Boy. I think you knew that already, but it bears mentioning again. I'm awfully taken with The Boy. I guess what makes this more noteworthy is that...I think he actually likes me back. Perhaps not as much as I like him (would I be arrogant in sticking a "yet" in here?), but hell, it's only our second date. Which kind of brings me back to earth again, and reminds me that I get attached to people just way too fucking easily.

(*Whispers*) But that doesn't stop me from liking him!

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