I get the hint. I'm not dense, you know...
If I tell you, will you stop bugging me?
There has been an overwhelming amount of you that have contacted me over the last week and said, "Yeah, great post about the stars aligning, the good luck, winning that award, all the new followers and stuff...but what the hell is going on with Mr. Handsome Moving Sale Man with Two Sisters"?
As Jen from The Brook Would Have No Music said,"Is that a Native American name you gave him?" Like Dancing with Wolves, Stands with a fist, or in my case, Stands with Martini Glass. Or Strong Like Bull Drinking Red Bull. Or even Stands Precariously Upright in UberHot Heels?
I did meet Mr. Handsome Moving Sale Man with Two Sisters; or Patrick, as he calls himself.
And yes, he's quite...intriguing. And handsome. And charming.
Of course, it was quick. Too quick. Go figure that my stars have decided to align themselves for someone else's schedule. Directly caused by my ex-husbands travel schedule to be exact. But that's okay. I can work around it.
One thing that I've enjoyed most about having an ex-husband is that I have 'designated nights out'. The nights that my daughter stays with her dad; those are the evenings when I plan to spend time with my friends; to go out. She really hasn't been much with babysitters, because I've always had one built in with my ex.
However, I think I may have to change some things if I plan on entering into the dating pool.
I had made plans to meet for a cocktail early evening. I knew that Boo's dad would be picking her up at 5:30, so 6:00 seemed a good time. Unfortunately her dad called and said that he was going to have to go out of town, could he switch nights? It's already 4:00. Should I cancel? Should I go? What to do!
I called Chrissy.
"Argh! What do I do?", I asked her.
"No buts. GO. Now..."
So I quickly checked my hair. Of course, it had been lightly raining all day which does not usually make for a good hair day. Not to obsess, but I would like to make a good first impression. I thought the rain did make my hair seem a little on the limp side, but the upside is it made my skin look nice and dewy. I reapplied some lipstick, de-dogged* myself and out the door I went.
*De-dogging- vb. To desperately try to de-fur your clothing before going out in public.
De-dogging or de-catting yourself is a ritual at my home. On the back counter you can usually find several de-linting type products to use. Most of them do not work very well on Stuey hair; short, stiff white hair that manages to work it's way into the weave of your clothes. Why don't I have a penchant for black clothes if I own white haired animals? Fur is not enVogue. And especially not high fashion to be covered in Stuey hair...
I can't begin to tell you how many times I'd be standing a chatting with a friend and they start picking the hairs out of my sweater...usually unconsciously. They must think, "Geez, you'd think she could afford a lint brush!"
When we were at Cedar Point on Sunday, one ride was indoors and had black lighting. Boo loves black lighting. Her shoe laces and teeth glow. As do my fingernails and...what! I just spent an hour de-dogging this jacket!
White specks everywhere on my jacket! Everywhere!
Now back to the original story...
I ran out the back door in my black sweater as dog free as I could possibly get it. I hoped the wine bar didn't have black lighting. But I do know he has a dog, so maybe he'd be a little forgiving on the excess hair on clothes thang.
"Hi Patrick!" (He was already there when I arrived. Nice. Prompt.)
"Hey sister..." (Big smile on his face, leans in for a cheek kiss and quick hug.)
I explained my predicament that I couldn't stay long, however I didn't want to cancel. He seemed amused by my flustered apology.
"No problem at all Nancy. There will be other times."
At which I had the teenage flutters. Does he see that I'm blushing? God, I'm such a putz.
You know the worst part?
When I get nervous, I have to go to the bathroom...
Some people sweat, some people giggle.
I have to go #1.
The guy must think I have a bladder infection or something. I sure do hope he thinks it's 'adorable', 'cuz right now...I don't.
I texted him this morning to let him know that the dogs, Sienna and Stuey (pictured above) love the new loveseat. They just sprawl on it like I bought it for them. The $250 dog bed.
He responded back: Is it me or Alfred they r looking 4
I think it may be both.
Those dogs have good taste. And you know that dogs can tell about a human. So if they like his smell...then perhaps, he really is a good guy.
I'll let you know.
It does look very promising that he is...