Charming, but single

A journal in dates and drinks


So. Damn. Clueless.

Wednesday night, the inevitable happened. I saw the Blackberry. (And this time I had to talk to him.) I was running late to meet Prom Date at the cigar bar for a drink. It is one of my favorite bars and I figured I couldn’t stay away forever and for all I knew, The Blackberry wouldn’t be there. Prom Date called because I was running late and I could hear The Blackberry yelling into the phone for me. I didn’t want to see him and would have preferred if he would have fallen off of the face of the earth after our New Year’s make out session, but what was I to do? I could go home and bail on Prom Date or I could be an adult and deal with The Blackberry. I chose the later. I strode in wearing my work clothes, as I’d had an after work dinner. I was in a knee-length black pencil skirt, a black top and black high heels (didn’t feel like ironing!) and the look was topped off with a trench coat. My hair was in a low bun on the base of my neck. He immediately moved seats so I could sit between him and Prom Date, who could tell something was up between the two of us, but didn’t ask until later. Our cocktail waitress came over and The Blackberry made a show of putting my wine on his tab – noting that Prom Date could pay his own way. It was possibly mean of me to accept the glass of wine, but I worried refusing it would cause a minor scene. “You can put her drink on my tab,” he said. “That’s not necessary, but thank you for the drink.” The cocktail waitress brought the wine over and I had a sip. “You’re not going to thank me?” “Um,” I said. “I thanked you before. But thanks again.” Later, he said, “Wasn’t it nice of me to buy you a drink?” “Yes, thank you. It is literally the NICEST thing that anyone has EVER done for me before.” “Well that warms my heart – I do have one, you know.” He later asked if I was mad at him for not calling. “I thought about it, but since I never called, I didn’t know if I should call.” “Why would you start calling me now?” A few minutes went by and he said, “So, did you enjoy your New Year?” “Yes, I slept in, recovered from my hangover and saw my parents,” I said curtly. “Technically, you also, you know … we were … on New Years … it was after midnight.” I ignored him. He was annoying me later and said, “Can you not see the disdain I have for you?” “You didn’t have disdain for me a few nights ago.” Then he left for a few minutes. “Dear God,” I told Prom Date. “This is what I’m going to have to deal with for the rest of my life! When I am in the nursing home, he is going to roll his wheelchair over and try to flirt with me.” Then The Blackberry was back and begging me to dance. I refused, yawned and downed my wine so I could leave. “Where are you going?” he asked as I slipped on my coat. “Home, because I need to sleep.” He leaned in to me and in a whisper said, “Do you want me to come with you?” “Um, NO.”



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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



Associated Content Interview with Charming
The Hindu: Blog Sisters are here

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