Charming, but single

A journal in dates and drinks


One Night Only

On Thursday, the Relief Worker was back in town for One Night Only. He called several times on my cell phone in the morning. I finally grabbed the vibrating phone and stole out into the stairwell by my cube. “I can’t talk. I have this report due and I’m sorry but …” I whispered sternly. I agreed to call him after work. Any other man and I wouldn've rushed home, shaved my legs and adjusted my breasts in each bra-shirt combination possible. But this is the Relief Worker and there was no way he'd be lustful enough to even think about touching my legs. And my breasts? I really don't think he's interested. He asked to take me to a movie. (I would have preferred a cup of coffee or dinner, seeing as he’s been stationed elsewhere and I haven’t seen him in a month.) We decided just to head over to the theatre and pick a show when we got there. I thought he might agree to see “Walk the Line,” because we’d previously seen the preview and we’d both hummed along to the Johnny Cash song playing in the background. I was wrong. So, we were left with “Rent,” “Saw 2,” “Harry Potter,” “Yours, Mine and Ours” and “Just Friends.” I’ve seen “Rent” twice, and his religious ways wouldn’t mix with it. I don’t do terribly scary movies, so no “Saw.” Seeing “Harry Potter” would remind me that he’s a dad and “Yours, Mine and Ours?” Don’t think so. That left “Just Friends.” Which sucked. (I do like Ryan Reynolds. But the movie still blows.) We had about an hour to kill in the theatre, so we caught up. When I spend time with him, I remember why I like him. He’s just a friendly and he has this unassuming nature about him. And this sweet, thick drawl that comes from being raised in the rural mid-South. And a smile. I like a good smile. After the movie I dropped him off at his hotel. He’s headed home for a few weeks and then I guess he’ll be back. As he got out of the car, he asked when I was going to come visit him. I smiled and said, “We’ll see.” But what I meant was “You haven’t even kissed me! You haven’t even TRIED to kiss me! I don’t think we have anything in common. I don’t think we’re ever going to have anything in common. We disagree on everything, and I suspect that you’d be simply appalled if you saw me out with my friends. What would we do for a whole weekend? Going to the movie, having a cup of coffee, eating dinner – these are activities with a time limit and a time frame. A short time frame. One that is much shorter than 72 or even 48 hours. And have I brought up the fact that YOU HAVEN’T EVEN KISSED ME! I am just weeks of being 26 damn years old and I REFUSE to do this ‘when is he going to kiss me’ high school non-drama stupid ridiculousness. ENOUGH!” “We’ll see,” I said instead and drove off.


Charming, but single is 25 26 27(!), lives in the Southern part of the U.S.A. and likes both her drinks and her boys tall. E-mail (listed below) her and she may respond. You can also IM her in AIM/AOL. (If she ever remembers to sign on.)
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Former taglines of this blog: "A Journal in Dates and Drinks" and "A Dateless Journal of Drinking."




Those Particulars
Some Backstory
Memories of the Way We Were
Updates and Towel Snapping
One Year Wrap-Up
Just As She Is
An Open Letter to Myself
After 26 years, she HAS learned something
An Open Letter to the Men Who Message Me Through Match
Sharing a smoke



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