I think I may return to work today a lot more rested than I have been. Well, temporarily at least. Seeing as I have to finish report cards this week.
Friday's shopping trip never happened. I never heard from Jade the entire weekend. Not surprising though. She's been known to do that.
I had agreed with my co-worker on Thursday that we should head out Friday night. (I really need to come up with a name for her as I have a feeling she will continue to be mentioned here.) After much debate Friday afternoon, we decided that there really was nowhere else to go but North Beach. That meant our usual dance spot there. So I finally got the dancing out of my system Friday night. As we were leaving, we were approached by these two Peruvian guys. They seemed to think that I was Brazilian. They also wanted us to go out salsa dancing with them sometime. I got the phone number of one of them. He tried to trick me into giving him mine.
"Why don't you call me to make sure you entered the number correctly?"
"One minute. I haven't quite saved it."
I fiddled around with the buttons and then called.
"Why does it say 'Private'?"
Hmmmm. Now how could that happen? Perhaps because I am smart enough how to block my number on my cellphone. Idiot.
On the way home, we noticed that my old fave bar was still open so we decided to stop in to say hi. The bartender gave us flak for stopping in at the end of the night. The owners were overjoyed to see me.
"We haven't seen you in forever. You never come to see us anymore. And my, don't you look sexy."
I now remember why I always prefered to go out in SF as opposed to the East Bay. The unadulterated worshipping. Suddenly I knew that I had to head back there on Saturday night.
My coworker had a date Saturday night. Their only plans were dinner though. We decided that after dinner that they would meet up with me in SF at the bar.
Well, of course I got there before they did. As I was enjoying my first drink, I noticed a guy making a beeline toward me. I groaned inside, fearing the worse. Shows how much I know. Turns out he was perfectly nice and fun to talk to.
It also tells me that I should wear pink more often. Because that also gives me an excuse to carry the cute little Kate Spade bag. There was that scary moment though. Some random woman approached us as we were talking to comment on how I was rocking the pink. She also pointed out that she too was wearing a pink shirt. And then she kissed me on my cheek. The guy asked if I knew her. Ummmm. Nope. Now that I think about it, maybe the pink is too powerful.
I this is around the point in the conversation when we started to discuss underwear color. (See number 1.) He seemed to think that since I was wearing so much pink, that my underwear should match. I explained that I did not own any pink underwear. So he offered to buy some. But it wasn't said in a sleazy kind of way. Because we had also just finished dissecting his lack of style on Saturday night.
The guy also knew some of the folks I know in the place, including a former bartender. Now the former bartender would have read me the riot act if there was anything wrong with this guy but he didn't. My friend also seemed to approve of him once she showed up.
Eventually my friend and her date left to check out another place.A bit later my phone rang. It seems my friend and her date had missed the last BART train and the first of the All Nighter buses wouldn't be coming for another hour. I told them to sit tight and that I would be there within a half hour.
The guy offered to walk me to my car. I told him that I needed to catch the bartender to settle my tab. It seems that I didn't have a tab though because the guy had already settled it. So off we went. Upon reaching my car, he asked for my phone number. What the heck. He then explained that he didn't believe in the whole "you have to wait a certain number of days before calling" thing. To me this said that I should expect a call on Sunday.
So I rescued my friend and her date from downtown, dropped them off, realized I was hungry and hit Nation's, and then headed home.
Around 2:00 Sunday afternoon my phone rang. It was the guy. It seems that he has a business thing in Berkeley on Tuesday afternoon. So we're going out when he finishes up. Argh! Now I have to sit around obsessing over what to wear. And trying to figure out a name for him if the date goes OK. But I can't call him "fill-in-the-blank Boy." Because he seems to be more of a "man" than a "boy." Wish me luck!
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