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I guess it is my fault for even considering him to begin with. There was something boyish and scruffy about him , something funny and snarky, something different, I guess. So, I made the date.

My first warning sign should have been the… You plan it and tell me when and where. Umm, no. You want to take me out… YOU plan it.

Then, in rapid succession came every reason and flaming red flag ever needed:

He works a job he isn’t passionate about yet he isn’t strategizing a next move. He’s content with mediocrity.

When I responded past a text of his with two other flirty texts later in the day, his response was to ask if I had Verizon, because he doesn’t have unlimited texts. Way to respond to a hot girl text flirting with you buddy.

The night before our date it became clear that he hadn’t considered planning it when he said, so I’m thinking Chinese cause of your allergy. Um, I can’t do Chinese… Other than pizza and beer it’s one of the worst choices for me. Then he says, well, how about Mexican? To which I respond that it can sometimes be okay but that he should just pick a place and call them and ask whether they can accommodate my allergy. Then, as if he isn’t listening, I realized his third choice  showed the bigger issue motivating his picks, he’s cheap. He chose a vegan/veg place that is really only known for their pizzas. I mentioned that vegan places use gluten as their meat substitutes and rely on bread and pasta as mainstays in the meal. “So, eat vegetables then.” That’s what he said. Hey, way to show a girl a good time.

At 33, he lives with his parents and couldn’t answer the question regarding his exit timeline and strategy.

So, dread dread dread. I cancelled a few hours before, with an excuse regarding work, because I felt it was kinder than the truth. In the end, his response was brilliant, for a man-child.  “That’s too bad, because I was looking forward to our date.  You ruined my day and I’m mad at you for it.” IF I had actually been caught up at work, he just secured himself supportive asshole of the year award and no chance in hell of a redo.

He reminded me of that Chris Elliot show Get A Life when he was a 30 yr old paper boy living above his parent’s garage. Perhaps our date would have ended with my finding out that he stole his dad’s car and was actually unlicensed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQolt4lI4wM

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What an interesting week I had! I got laid 3 times, in 4 days… by two different men. One, uber needy and slighty stalkeresque. The other, unexpectedly fabulous. But again, wow, no sex for MONTHS…and then 2 men in 4 days. I feel so… dirty, no. Naughty? No. Hmm, what is that word? Oh, relieved. Ha! YES, that IS what I feel.

In a week so much has changed though. Mr. Lawyer McBratty, whom I slept with on Wednesday night and whose bedroom skills fell into the category of pleasant mediocrity, was just TOO much to bear in terms of personality flaws. He began systematically insulting everything I was passionate about if he didn’t understand it or like it. From my musical tastes to my spiritual and philosophical leanings to my relationships with animals. He said that I was intelligent with good common sense, so why was I being irrational in my interests? He was being argumentative in order to make my arguments more precise, he explained. Oh, I thought it was to ensure that he would never get laid again. Needless to say, but, he is completely out of the picture in only 6 days!

Type Geek has won himself the gift of regular sex after taking a surprise turn from shy non move maker to my new oral sex rock god. Can we all say hallelujah?! All hail the man who can get me to curl up in a ball and break into hysterics. (Does anyone else out there laugh hysterically when they cum? Am I an anomaly?)

Now, the bookends. In my weekend post I mentioned having chatted up a hot McHotty from Spain on the dating site and arranging to have coffee with him on Saturday afternoon, prior to my date with Type Geek. The hottie, in person, was even hotter than he was in virtual 2-d. Yes, I keep saying hot. A mix of Bradley Cooper and Ralph Fiennes, I nicknamed him Cooper Fiennes. We had a great few hours together on Saturday. Very easy to spend time with him.

My date with Type Geek spanned the Saturday evening into Sunday early afternoon. Evening and morning sex, multiple meals, and lots of time spent naked in bed. An excellent pinnacle to the weekend. I spent a few hours at home on Sunday, wrote a post for this blog, showered, ate a real meal and then I received an email from Cooper Fiennes. He was in the city with his childhood best friend, a man visiting from Spain. If I was in the city, would I like to meet up with them for coffee? The dog and I decided that coffee was a great idea, if it meant strolling around with a dangerously handsome man who finds me attractive.

His friend was a darling man. I bought all of us coffee and we sat in the sun with my dog. The boys even took turns walking her, something they found entertaining because of her inherent youthful exuberance. When she and I walked them to the train and said our ciao’s, she whined frantically as they ascended the escalators to the platform. They had made quite the impression on my little girl. It was a nice end to a very fun, very sexy weekend. Great sex bookended by coffee with a gorgeous foreigner. Yes, please.

Now, the new week has begun. It has already begun to fall into place. I had a re-exam by my dentist, you may remember him as the youngster who likes rough sex… but later admitted that it was only because he was trying to emotionally protect himself. He is a doll…and now, he is my dentist. He graduates in a few short weeks and will be moving to Minnesota sadly, so, we have three appointments this week in order to ensure he has completed all my fillings prior to his getting signed off and cleared for diploma. In addition to that, I was going to go to NYC to see my Virtual Sex Guru pal present an art piece he has been working on, however, things fell apart at the 10 o’clock hour. With a sudden free evening, Cooper Fiennes has stepped up for a night of cocktails and the cinema. Saturday is an outdoor music festival with Type Geek and my pooch, with a high potential for naughtiness later that evening. The topper of the week, however, is this. Guess who started texting the hell out of me this afternoon? Guess who really wants to see me and have lunch. Guess who might need to wait til next week. If you said Brooklyn, you would be correct. My feelings for him have not changed, however, until HIS ability to process and respectively assimilate his feelings for me into his life, in a way other than how he has been doing it the last couple of months, I refuse to jump through hoops and make myself available at his whim. I will not contort my reality in order to fit him in. It’s not my job.

Sigh. I think this may be a very interesting summer. A hot summer fling with a divorced Spanish man who is unnecessarily good-looking, regular naughtiness with an ocd designer, and the myriad of other men who may happen upon my lap, or I upon theirs, in the coming months. May we all have some adventures worth talking about.

Tuesday posts are web syndicated by www.thenewgay.net

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Lobster Risotto
(for 2, with leftover risotto for risotto cakes)

INGREDIENTS:
2 Medium LIVE lobsters
1 pound of littleneck clams
4 cups arborio rice
1/4 cup fresh tarragon on stem, loosely packed.
chicken (3 cups) and lobster (3 cups) stock
1/4 cup marscapone cheese
1/2 cup sliced fresh leeks
1 head garlic
1 slice pancetta 1/4 inch thick
1 fresh lemon for zesting
sea salt (maldon is my favorite)
fresh pepper

1-2 Bottles of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, some for cooking, most for drinking. 🙂

INSTRUCTIONS:
1. Heat oven to 450 F. Slice top off of head of garlic to expose tips of all cloves. Place in center of square of aluminum foil. Drizzle olive oil, lightly salt and pepper. Fold up corners of foil and twist to seal in garlic. Place in lower rack and allow it to hang out there while you do everything else. The longer it roasts, the more caramelized it gets.

2. Place 2 medium-sized LIVE lobsters in large pot of cold water and bring to boil. Cook until shells turn bright red. remove lobsters from water and place in ice bath to stop cooking.

3. After lobsters are cooked, mix 3 cups Chicken broth with 3 cups reserved lobster water and half of the pancetta, chopped in large pieces, in large sauce pan. Bring to medium-low heat on back burner.

4. In a heavy bottom pan add leeks, a tbsp olive oil, a tbsp butter, salt and pepper to taste and allow to soften and lightly brown over medium low heat. Onions should become translucent. 8-10 minutes. Pull leaves off of tarragon, chop finely and put aside. With microplane or fine grater, remove the zest from one washed lemon and set aside.

5.  Add dry arborio rice to pan and stir with wooden spoon to coat with butter, oil and leeks. Cook for 3-5 minutes, stirring constantly and then add 1 cup of wine. Bring heat to medium. Continue to stir and allow for the wine to be absorbed.

6. Add one cup of broth mixture at a time, allow rice to fully absorb liquid each time. Stir frequently with wooden spoon. Salt and pepper as you go. Taste occasionally. The rice should be al dente… or firm when bitten into, not crunchy… but NOT mushy! (10-15 minutes, give or take) When it seems close to being done, stir in tarragon. (Fresh herbs should always be added towards the end. Dried in the beginning. )

7. As Rice is cooking, shell lobster. Remove as much meat as possible. Chop coarsely and set aside.

8. Remove clams from fridge. In separate pan place the clams, a tbsp olive oil, remaining chopped pancetta, couple splashes of wine (this is soooo scientific), salt and pepper, cook over medium heat until the clams open. Keep over low heat to warm.

9. When rice is firm, but cooked, remove from heat and fold in lemon zest, lobster meat, and 1/4 cup marscapone.Voila… Lobster Risotto!!!

10. Plate the risotto in center of plate with clams surrounding. Squeeze lemon over clams and serve.

11. Remove garlic from oven and serve with butter and fresh bread like french or chiabata.

12. NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM

So, there you have it, the promised recipe for Lobster Risotto. I do everything according to my own intuition and taste, so please feel free to play around with the measurements and make this recipe your own.

I had also promised an update on the men who are interested in me and what has been going on besides Brooklyn. Well, I told the Doppelganger that I am seeing someone, which was easier than fessing up about how I made out with his brother, the Peruvian, in December. The tittie slapping Turk? I also told him I was seeing someone. Easier than admitting that his make out style leaves a lot to be desired. The 25-year-old? That just fizzled. He’s so sweet and nice and young and I am just NOT there. We are friends and I suspect that we will remain as such. The assoc. prod/writer/musician guy? Well, we have become super buddies and actually talk about our crushes/dates with each other. He likes younger hipster gals and I like guys my own age who are taller than me. Someone who isn’t shorter than me when I wear heels. So, those are the guys who were kinda hanging around for the last couple of months.

New guys who are meandering into the picture: A world traveling, extreme frisbee playing, half asian hipster. A multi-racial vegan chef of sorts. A 34-year-old adrenaline junkie with the career to afford his insane hobbies.

In order of interest is the Frisbee Hipster, the adrenaline Junkie and lastly the Vegan Chef. The Vegan Chef is nice, says sweet things, BUT is not physically my type at all. Should I feel badly about this? Maybe I will go out on a lunch or coffee only date with him.

Yes, I admit that there is a lack of interest in dating anyone other than Brooklyn. I think that this is for many reasons. Firstly, I burnt out on the 4-5 dates a week with different men. The getting stood up, or stuck with the tab. Yes, I often pay for coffee or tea with Brooklyn but that is because I want to and do so without his asking. I know that with his divorce, the kids, moving, etc… that every dollar helps. So, I can pick up a couple drinks or tea now and then or even make him dinner rather than us eating out. What I didn’t like is when I would go out with someone and even after they knew that my business was struggling, they would suggest we have sushi for dinner and somehow I would get stuck with the tab. $100 sushi dinner that I hadn’t budgeted for vs. a $22 cocktail tab that I opted to pay for are huge differences. The Second reason for my general disinterest is the level of comfort I feel when I am with Brooklyn. It’s calm. It doesn’t require work. It feels genuine. Sigh. What to do, what to do. Lastly, the third reason is this email I received tonight from one of the men on a dating site I subscribe to: “My job is to make you HAPPY babe all the time.. cuz If I had the letters “HRT”, I can add “EA” to get a “HEART” or a “U” and get “HURT”. But I’d rather choose “U” and get “HURT” than have a “HEART” without “U”.”

That email is enough of a reason, right? So, this is my update. Enjoy the risotto and stay tuned for tomorrow’s dual posting with our syndicater… TheNewGay.Net

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So, I finally agreed to a movie and make out night with the 25-year-old. We picked up take-out from a local Whole Foods, I grabbed a tea from a coffee shop and then we headed back to his place. We set about watching Royal Tenenbaums and then a few too many episodes of Spaced on Hulu, which 25 had never seen. he wasn’t even familiar with Simon Pegg. HELLO! Hot Fuzz! Shaun of the Dead! Spaced?!!! I loves me some Simon Pegg.

Anyway, I’m there. I’m on his couch. He’s got the green light .And… nada. It isn’t until the last two episodes of Spaced that he finally decides to try to cuddle. Granted, I am not entirely there. I am a little distracted. I was supposed to be spending a steamy evening with Brooklyn in the backseat of a car on the beach. NO, not THAT steamy. As you may recall,the ex-wife stomped on those plans as soon as we had solidified them. So, here I was, with a plan B. I hate plan B’s because they aren’t fair to the person who ended up in that slot. Yet, there I was, willing to give him the chance he kept asking for and alluding to. He didn’t try to kiss me, he didn’t even pet me in a way that was suggestive of his desire to kiss me. It’s as if he completely froze up at the bat.

On the way to the train he finally gives me a little kiss. Boys, boys, boys. What are we gonna do with these nervous boys? This one is quickly migrating into the friendship sector. Ok, honestly, he probably already is there but I have been trying to give him a couple chances since he has tried for so long to get me to treat him like a man, rather than as a 25-year-old.

The 4-year-old black boy who started flirting with me on the train over to 25-year-old’s place has a better chance of dating me at this point, he had the moves, the guts, the lines… the 4-year-old was smoooth. He sauntered over to me after we made eye contact and sat in the empty seat next to me. He then looked up at me and said, ” Hi”. Simple and direct. I like it. I returned the greeting.  “I’m Marcus”. I smiled and told him my name while shaking his hand. A few seconds later, “so, you havin’ a good night?”. I started laughing, his mother was a few seats down cracking up at him as well. “Why yes Marcus, I am. Are you?” “Yeah, I’m on the Choo-Choo”, he replied.  Can I marry this boy now? He then asks me a few more questions and finally I ask him,”Marcus, are you flirting with me?”  He then looked up with these big brown eyes through huge thick black lashes, smiled shyly and said simply,”yes”. The 4-year-old has it figured out. Perhaps men lose their skills once puberty hits? This 4-year-old has it all figured out though. I’d date him, if I was 30 years younger.

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Brooklyn Boy commented tonight,” You really are infatuated with me, aren’t you?” . I was taken aback. I don’t really like the term infatuation, to me it stinks of reckless teenage crushes. I was also mildly offended for a moment. He then said,”well, cause I am too, so that’s good.” I laughed and asked if he was infatuated with himself and he smirked.  When I got home I found an email from him with a self-portrait. I loved it. A closeup of his jaw, lips and scarf wrapped neck. Very much the style of photo taking that I gravitate towards.  I commented back, lamenting that his handsomeness is killing me. I also voiced issue with the use of the term infatuated, stating that for me, it is more of a deep admiration and appreciation for him, and that I like him more than the average bear. His reply was that for him, he did believe infatuation was what he was feeling, perhaps without the extravagant foolishness and that he likes my intensity and finds me very “hot”. The boy makes me laugh.

We met for a pot of tea and a chocolate chip cookie after he got off work. I was supposed to meet my Foreigner friend for an early dinner in the area of Brooklyn’s office, since I was in an area close to the Foreigner’s home, but I received a text canceling 5 minutes before we were to meet. Grrrr, Foreigner boy… grrr.

Brooklyn told his soon to be ex-wife that he joined a dating site. She was none too pleased. She believed he was moving on too rapidly it seems. The issue with divorces is, one person is always done far sooner than another. He is ready to move on because the relationship has been dead to him for longer than she is admitting to herself. He did not tell her about me in particular, at least she has not yet asked if he has been seeing anyone yet. This isn’t need to know info. Specifics do no one any good. There was someone who she had been interested, or at least it now seems that perhaps she SAID she was interested in, just to receive a reaction. His reaction was ,”wooh! Go for it!”, not exactly what she thought. He wants her to be happy. He knows that they will never be truly happy together, they haven’t been for a very long time, regardless of previous separations and therapy. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for someone is let them go. Allow them the opportunity, and yourself, to be loved as you both deserve to be.

With that said, I promised the 25-year-old a make out session this weekend cause I keep blowing him off for dates all week and a really cool photographer winked at me on one of the dating sites. He used a quote from one of my favorite films. It was a film that my ex-fiance found to be “trite and pedestrian”. Fuck her, the pretentious douche bag. I happen to LOVE the movie.This of course earned the winking photographer some points in my book, and a reply.

I need some action soon. I could get it from Brooklyn but I want to wait until his mess is a bit more compartmentalized. Currently, it is a little too cluttered. I adore him and would like the opportunity to truly see what it could be about BUT, until he is 85% free and living on his own, I am going to continue to casually date other people and potentially get laid by someone.I need to avoid getting too wrapped up in Brooklyn’s saga… a distraction would be good. There is too much potential to become a rebound relationship for Brooklyn if I go blindly down this road. I want both eyes open for this journey, not only to avoid any unnecessary negative ramifications, but also, because he is so gosh darn pretty to look at.

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I woke up yesterday morning with some errands planned and a tentative date scheduled for the evening. He is someone whom I talked to a bit in December and then lost touch for a few weeks until the end of January. We agreed earlier in the week to have a loosely scheduled date in the 6:30 ish realm for Saturday night. No hard defined plans. Honestly, I was not feeling like it though and was hoping that I didn’t hear from him. He had suddenly become a Plan B.

After my meet-up turned date on Friday afternoon I found myself thinking a lot about Brooklyn Boy. I hadn’t met anyone whom I immediately felt an ease and comfort with like I did in his company. It seemed as if we had known each other for years as our rapport was so natural and unforced. He Google IM’d me around 9 pm and we spent several hours chatting online before I told him MY big “secret”. His response to my news, that I was just coming out of over a decade of lesbian exclusivity, was one of  surprise but not offense.  Most people aren’t offended per se, but there are preconceived beliefs that can interfere with someone’s attempts at getting to know me for who I am, which isn’t only as someone with a queer slant to my sexuality. Maybe it’s the New York in him, he isn’t fazed by much. He wants to see me on Saturday, if I am available. This is WHY my original date became my Plan B, as Brooklyn Boy suddenly took over top billing. I decided that if I didn’t hear from Plan B by 2 pm on Saturday, Brooklyn would win the spot.

So, I woke up as my 25-year-old texted me, hung over from a party the night before. I’m in need of distraction and ask him if he wants to tag along with me on my errands. We met an hour later, watched enough of the DVR’d Olympics to see the luger die and I dragged him out of his apartment. I couldn’t watch the news coverage, it was just too dreadfully sad. Meanwhile, I kept hoping I didn’t hear from Plan B.

We wandered around the city, grabbed some sesame balls from Chinatown, picked up my duvet cover, bought some dog food and then wrapped up our early afternoon adventure at a café with some latte’s, cinnamon tortilla chips and sea-salted caramels. 2 pm had come and gone and Brooklyn Boy had texted me and agreed to pick me up at my place at 4:30. A new hair conditioner I used in the morning had turned my hair into a bad science experiment show and tell exhibit so I had an hour to rush back to my place to rewash my hair and be ready.

The train was delayed. Tick Tock Tick Tock. Argh. I texted him begging that he please not be early. As I was hitting send, he texted me letting me know he would be roughly 20 minutes late. Score! I finally made it home, fed the dog, washed my hair and changed three times before taking the dog out for a quick last walk before he arrived.

A few minutes later he arrives in his family van, a sign of a parent with two young kids, and we decide to go into the city and figure out our plan from there. He’s still cute and I’m still intrigued. Sometimes the initial interest wanes after you go home after a date but it didn’t with him. I want his story. We are both obsessed with stories about people, we have similar projects we are planning on working on that are built around the stories of people you pass by every day and never think much about. Everyone has a story worth telling and being heard.We find a parking spot with a 2 hour limit but 2.5 hours until it switches over to free. We make note to stop back by later. Since his soon to be declared ex-wife doesn’t drink, he doesn’t get the opportunity to go out for cocktails much so we decide to start there. We each had a Dark and Stormy, chatted, laughed, people watched and then another round and some kisses and some more laughing and then a final 3rd round. Starting so early with the cocktails and having had so little to eat earlier in the day had us both a little pie eyed. We left and realized the time. Surely he had a ticket. We hesitantly walked by the family van and SCORE again, no ticket. That NEVER happens on this particular street. We look at each other quizzically and decide that to go to a little book store café down the street, maybe grab a bite and a cup of tea, sober up some.

Somehow we ended up sitting on the floor in the far aisle of the bookstore against a stack of unpopular books. I say they are unpopular because we sat there for 4 hours and only 3 people walked by the entire time. 3 people whom we chatted up and exchanged info with. Over the span of time we were sprawled on the floor we varied in position, at times I had my head in his lap as we looked through books, other times he leaned into me, or we faced each other, legs entwined and backs against opposing shelves.  The people who we met, one of them asked how long we had been together, how we had met. We laughed. When we confessed they looked shocked. They said that we appeared to have known eachother for years. We looked at eachother and smiled, it felt like that.We sat there on that floor for 4 hours like an old couple, punctuating moments with kisses, absent-minded caresses and laughter. He showed me illustrators he liked, I showed him a book of poems by Neruda, whom he had never read. He reads out loud. It’s nice, comforting, inclusive. I can not remember the last time I had felt such an ease with another person.

Eventually the bookstore threw us out because they were closing. he had a long drive back home so we decided to get back to the car and get me home. Only, we sat and talked, and talked, and stared at each other and laughed and kissed for 2 more hours. When we finally looked at the clock and saw that it was past 2, we untangled ourselves from our embrace and got serious about getting me home. Parked in front of my condo, I suggested I grab the dog for her last pee, and so he could meet her. In addition to kids, he also has a big cumbersome male dog. My pooch barely let me out the door before she had dragged me across the sidewalk and practically tackled him. She spent 15 minutes engrossed in him and the delicious scents of his family van. It’s a treasure trove of dropped kid snacks and dog cookie crumbles. We laughed at her and said our good nights. I made him promise to text me when he has arrived home safely.

I spent the next 2 hours chatting via IM with varying friends who happened to be online. We talk about him, I send over pics to them. Everyone approves, some worry about the complications of his current status. I counter that we all have baggage, some hide it better. His however, is completely in view. No apologies, it is, what it is. He has kids, he is in the process of getting divorced and for some reason something in my profile resonated with him and made him sign up to meet me. I consider that a gift. A fabulously unexpected gift.

Today is Valentine’s Day. Brooklyn Boy just texted me that he misses me. Is it okay that I find this sweet and not unnerving? I guess I like him too, so it’s okay. I have an Anti-Valentine’s Day date scheduled with my 25-year-old tonight but I am tired and really want to clean my house. I am also feeling a little run down. I am going to see if he minds a rain check. I would rather get some laundry done, take some Motrin (thank you period for arriving this morning), and watch I Love You, New York with my pup and some take out pho. I hope he understands.

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I know, I KNOW. WHY am I going out with the Doppelganger again and WHY haven’t I told him about my connection to his brother? Well, he still hasn’t said his last name. There still isn’t enough linking me to his brother AND I guess I assume this will fizzle out before it gets there and SO, there is no point in saying anything. He’s nice and interested, albeit his attention skills are lacking and he is awkward, at best. I almost feel sorry for him. Being the older brother of someone soooo smooth and easy and HOT.

We met up at a small bistro/café and I had a (shocker) dark and stormy (As did he. The one thing he has on his brother…an expanded palate.) and grazed on the two appetizers he ordered. After numerous conversations, he still forgets about my food sensitivities and offers me things I cannot eat. Umm, remember, we have talked about this, several times. That is one of the attention issues I talk about. I seriously question whether he has ADHD. He’s easily distracted except when he kisses me. Seems like that is the only time he stops and focuses rather than looking around like a sugar binged toddler in a toy store.

Yes, that means I kissed him again. What am I thinking? I don’t KNOW. So we leave the bistro/cafe and it’s  semi early so we walk a bit to grab some hot beverages (cappuccino for him, chai for me) from the only coffee-shop I know to be open on a weeknight past 9 pm. I purchase the beverages while he is in the restroom. My way of being nice and thanking him for picking up the pricey part of our date.

We walked to the train, smacked in the face by the freezing February wind. I walked him to his station, mine was across the street. We said goodnight and as we were kissing outside the station, a turning car honked at us. It was a very funny moment actually. One he mentioned later in text, when letting me know he had arrived home safe and wanted to make sure I had as well. He’s nice. He’s blah but he’s nice. I KNOW. I KNOW.

So, I get home, and am dealing with the dog, making a snack, and checking my email when a drunken 25-year-old texts me that he’s missing our nightly banter. He’s flirty McFlirty and laying it on heavily. He wants to have an Anti-Valentines day date with me, mainly because I have plans Saturday night already. I told him, no romance. Action-Adventure film with violence and explosions, nachos/buffalo wings/or something equally unsexy, and Hard Cider or booze… no wine. Those were my rules. He then fell asleep while texting something about making out with me. What is up with that? I will give him the benefit of the doubt for being a full-time law student with a full-time job and the want to maintain a social life, which explains the 1:30 a.m. drunken text flirts but geez, I thought that one of the benefits of younger men was their supposed stamina?!

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