The Playboy wanted to spend the day today, go bike riding, hang out at his pool and have lunch then go see his "friends" in L.A. tonight. Ya know, without ME. I don't think so.
I went from really liking him to dreading seeing him again. Then I awoke this morning to a message from 10:00 PM last night saying he was coming over. (Of COURSE he didn't.) But the mere MENTION of such an absurdity is getting him kicked to the curb today. He has no idea.
(Update 1: I couldn't wait. I did it at 5:00 AM.) His retort was that he called just to make sure we were on for today. I said, "Well that's not what you said in your message. It sounded like a juvenile attempt at a booty call and even when I was juvenile, that was never my scene. Good luck, Bye." Ahh. I feel better. (Update 2: He's calling. The message: He accused me of not comprehending his "joke". Then he said the REAL reason he called last night was to ask me for a ride to pick up his Porsche this morning. I want to respond:
1. Not only are you NOT getting a ride, you're not getting "a ride".
2. Where are these "friends" you hang out with instead of me? Can't they give you a ride?
3. Are you gay? ( I just like to say that.)
So with renewed vigor I introduce a small sample of current contenders:
The legitimate professional surfer/tri-athlete is back. I was too shy to meet originally. He had too many pics of his flat out amazing physique (remember?). He has since, taken them down. He is funny and witty on the phone. I never called him back. This time I might. He's charming.
The Naval officer. He's about as entertaining as a wet dish rag. But his honor, integrity and bravery is compelling.This guy pretends to be some kind of producer. Obviously not succesful by the state of his kitchen. But I don't care. He's funny. He thinks I' m funny. I think he's cute. Sorry, too young.