Sweet-T

The date with Sweet-T last night didn't feel much like a date. If I didn't know he liked me, I never would have guessed. When we sat next to each other on a bench watching a fountain, his body never shifted even in the slightest degree to face me. Ridiculous, I tell you. I'm not the one interested, and yet I could actually look him in the eye. Go figure.

We may go out for dinner sometime, but I'm thinking probably not. All signs point to us being friends. He is too afraid of what he wants to get it.

Alejandro (I cancelled hiking), on the other hand, contacted me last night while I was on my date, and asked me what I was doing. Out of respect for my friend, I did not answer the text. Did I want to? Yes. Would I have a little more exciting drama to report today if I did? Ha, yes. There are times in life where all I want is a good, heavy make-out session. Nothing too extreme, just some fun. This is one of those times. Which is why David might have fun on our date tonight. He is more likely to go for what he wants.

The problem is I still want Rugby. I think about him and my stomach feels empty, my throat tightens, and my chest seizes. The other night I stayed until he closed. I waited patiently for everyone to leave. It took fucking forever. I don't know what he was waiting for exactly, or what he was thinking. But, when it came time to say goodbye, all I got was a "friend" hug--you know, that short, you-could-be-my-sister hug? Ugh I was so pissed. I was particularly frustrated because he looked so good. And he smelled so good...

Who smells that good after ten hours of bartending?? Seriously. Jerk.

Anyway, it's best to move on and start looking elsewhere. Thus the date with David.

I'll keep you posted...