Adventures in the Café

Here I am world. It's like being onstage naked, really.

I have so much that I want to say but now that I'm going to be writing to everyone I'm scared. It's like constantly thinking about the movies you want to see, and then deciding to rent one but forgetting about that mental list. Except with this, there's an element of fear.

Here's what we'll do for now.

Last night involved going to a club where there were lots of happy young whipper-snappers doing their best to find eternal happiness facilitated by pissy draught beer. They were giving out beer in plastic cups, the kind you'd use at keg parties in university. I felt like I needed a walker.

One guy came up to me and my friend G, he was a cross between Malachi from Children of the Corn and the Shermanator from American Pie. Automatically I'm pretty psyched, because this is going to be a wicked sociological experiment.

Here's how it played out.

Shermanator - Hi ladies, you two been together long?

Me - (with a withering glare over the top of my glasses à-la librarian) That's wretched.

Shermantor - Sorry, I was just kidding.

Me - Fine.

Shermanator - Are you having a good night.

Me - Yes.

Silence

Me - (with a flight attendant persona) Well, have a great night!

Shermanator - Ouch! That's harsh!

Me - No, it's actually pretty nice. I could have said, 'Get lost and fuck off' this was encouragement for you to go your own way and have a good time about it.

G is snickering at this point.

Shermator - Get lost and fuck off.

Me - Now that's just mean and you've hurt my feelings.

Then he kissed me on the face. Can you believe I'm still single with this winning attitude and specimens like that to choose from?

Love and hugs,
L