Monday, May 5, 2008
Battlestar Gallactica was great.
Because just as I predicted, goddammit, my date dropped off the face of the earth.
I know, after everything I've been through in the past few months I should've known better than to give him my phone number. But he said he was driving up here. We had a date.
However, I have not heard from him since Thursday, when I sent him the email with my phone number. Total radio silence.
I also rented Good Luck Chuck, and am convinced that not only do I have a phone number jinx against me, I am the female version of Chuck. I'm no dentist, but it seems like every time I get something going with a guy, either in person or online, I serve as a conduit to lead him to the next gal. I'm a good luck charm for them.
The 'date' I never had this weekend was so attentive before I gave him my phone number. Emails 2 or 3 times a day. Every day. Long, involved emails sharing our history. I was stoked that he was such a motormouth - or motorfingers. Whatever you'd call someone who talks a lot through emails. Then he disappeared. I went back onto Yahoo! Personals (even though I've cancelled my account) to see if he had just dropped off the internet entirely. And he hadn't. He's back online, searching the personals ads again, probably communicating with another woman who was better at the cyberflirtation game, someone closer to his zip code, someone with prettier feet. He likes feet.
Well, I'm done.
Posted by Mistress of the Mix at 7:49 AM