10 January 2009

The Deepest Blues Are Black

I should know.

I distinctly remember after my "pass at Jordan", vowing to never do it again. It went something like this:
Me: "Hey, Jboy, you asshole, you overcharged me for the wetsuit the other day."
Jordan: "Did I? What was it supposed to be?"
Me: "Thirty, and I gave you fifty. Don't worry though. You can make it up to me by buying me lunch *flashes smile*"
Jordan: "*cough* um *shifty eyes* yeah *runs off*"
He returned with a twenty dollar bill. I was so embarrassed. I don't really remember being too gutted about the fact that he turned me down, just embarrassed. Of course, he told Ritchie, who still makes fun of me to this day about it.

Why, oh why, then, did I put myself in a similar situation today? I'm sick of all the "skirting the issue" if you will, that's been going on with Chris, so when he texted me when he left work this afternoon and asked me what I was doing this evening, I decided to take the lead. When, at 6pm, he said he had nothing planned for tonight (pretty sad, it's a Saturday), I suggested dinner. Not like, dinner in Devonport. I was up for sandwiches and milk, or something equally low-key. Don't be fooled by all the makeup. I'm low-maintenance.

Did he say yes? No? I'll get back to you when I've had some better offers to consider?

No, he didn't say anything. ANYTHING. It was four hours ago, and I still haven't heard a peep.

Go and sort out your fifteen-year-old boy drama. You're going to be thirty next year, and you can't even dignify my carefully-planned invitation for dinner with a response? Are you KIDDING me?

Sigh. My second ever attempt at asking a guy out goes to shit. What the hell am I doing wrong? I'm pretty! I'm kind of annoying, but I've seriously been keeping that at bay with this guy. And like, I never text him first. He always texts me. He doesn't have to text me every day, but he does. But turns out even this doesn't mean he's not bullshit. I don't fucking get it.

Men should sort themselves out. Until then, I'm done.

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