The story goes like this:
I meet K, M, and J at a club one night. A DJ dude who I’d been introduced to earlier walks over, proceeds to start talking to me (yelling at me, same difference), and then spills my drink on me. Nothing says I’d like to date you like gin on my skirt. So I give him my phone number. Mistake One.
I mean, he’s nice, educated, employed, but not really my type. Lately, my type is business-y men. You know, slacks and a tie to the office. Yum.
He calls me. We schedule date. After the breast cancer stress hell that was last week, I reschedule date.
You know when you push something off into the future because at that point, you can’t imagine anything except that exact moment in time and you think “next week” will never come? Yeah, it was like that.
Well, next week is tonight. It’ll be nice to get out, but I’m not looking to start anything until everything else sort of resolves itself.
Last week, B met up with us for “one drink, Katie, then we’re going home.” Of course, we run into the DJ dude who, coincidentally, has the same name. So I panic, hard. Dude I’m dating and dude I’m going a date with. Looking at each other. Naturally, I introduced them.
B1 met B2 and thought B2 was gay. Problem solved. No awkward explanations necessary.
Anyway, after I posted that blog about B(1) last week, I did some thinking. I took it down, because I thought, “Maybe it’s not him. Maybe it’s me. I’m not giving this 100%.” I realized that since I don’t know where I stand with him, I’ve sort of put him aside as something I don’t want to get too attached to. So I decided to be more attentive, more open, less cynical.
We’ll see. I’m still standing by my original thought, but I’m trying to try. I’ve been trying to be cute. Learning to bat eyelashes and whatnot. (Kidding.)