soapboxdiner

And maybe we shall see

Last night The Good Neighbor and I went out. To begin with, I felt entirely too sober to put on the party face and be perky and happy and laugh-y, and generally not in the mood to be out.

And then we walked in to corner dive bar. Up came the heads of the men whom we had met on my birthday. One who has been in touch with the Good Neighbor and has spoken with her frequently since their meeting. The other, supposedly "my" date, who had bought me (and The GN) a birthday rose but who at the end of the night could not remember my name when asking for my number. Hrmph.

But still they came up with hellos and sweet smiles of what appeared to be genuine happiness over our presence. Rose man took us by our respective waists as he guided us to a table, and there he sat us. He ordered our drinks and brought them to us. He was entirely sweet, lavishing his attention on us and between conversations filled with wit and charm, he made us laugh by his complete self-confidence while shaking his comfortably squat and rotund little booty on the dance floor.

And the night was filled from then on with gentlemanly attention and care. And oh god the laughter that STILL has my sides aching. At the end of the night, when asking for my number, he remembered my name.

And I would just like to say how warmed I was left feeling, and how reaffirmed in faith in the arena of potential for romance his actions have left me.

How entirely different and so far superior to messing with Scooter, or just about any of the sparse encounters I've felt so inclined as to engage in in the past... oh lord... five years? Longer, perhaps? I don't know. A long time.

And what is remarkable to me is that (and yes I am evil and destined to hell for this) although my initial impression of this man was that he bears a striking resemblance to a mole, and he is by far the oldest man I've ever considered for a first, or second, date, by the end of the night, in comtemplating all the various things I (women?) think on at these times - comfort and compatibility and respectibility and history and goal orientation and his Five Year Plan, god help me - I didn't even require talking myself into finding Mr. Mole attractive. He already was.

And for being entirely evil, I feel remarkably lucky at the opportunity to let down my cynicism and reacquaint myself with a less-bitchy/more-happy/even-nice-and-good-hearted/unguarded SBD.

Now there is something, eh?

10:12 pm - 05.02.04
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