So I'm not at all one to give you the dish on my real personal life (I would much rather post pictures of fat bottomed ladies with butterfly tattoos like in the post below) but I feel like it must be obvious that I don't have a fancy pants significant other to give some cute blog name to/refer to in posts by solely his first initial.
So yes ladies and
gentlemen, I'm a single lady and there's no need to put a ring on it. Yet.
Anyway, now that you've learned something completely boring about me today, I will move on to the reason I'm telling you this nonsense.
Last night...I went on a date. But that's not why I'm telling you this nonsense either. It was what happened before the date that completely screwed up my swag.
I was just waiting there, on the side of 2nd Ave, (in my brown leather boots, white denim skinnies, flowy black top and chambray button up) trying my damn hardest to get a cab to slow down and notice my midget arm sticking out into the stampede of traffic...when he approached me.
He was good looking.
This matters because I'm a snob and I tend to ignore you if you're homeless and asking for spare change, or my last french fry, or a prayer, or whatever it is that's written on your cardboard sign shoved in my face when I'm on the mission that is FINDING A GODDAMN CAB IN RUSH HOUR TRAFFIC.
Anyway. He was good looking. Okay great. You got it.
So our encounter yesterday evening went a little like this:
GLRD (Good Looking Random Dude): Runs across the stampede of traffic towards me and says "You are seriously gorgeous, are you heading downtown?"
Me: (A tinsy tiny bit flattered since he wasn't drunk in a crowded dark bar) "Well no, I'm just chillin' here on the side of the street trying to wave a cab down to head uptown on a way one south-bound street."
GLRD: "Oh. Okay. Well you're beautiful and I need to have your number."
Me: "Okay." (At this point I was in a rush and didn't have time to debate why he shouldn't have said number, he was good looking, I was on my way to a date so what's the hurt in locking down another one, he was good looking) "607 229 ...."
GLRD: (Pulls that sly move and calls me on the spot to make sure I didn't give him a fake number)
Me: (Waits for phone to ring since I've learned my lesson in giving fake ones out)
GLRD: "Alright I'll get in touch with you tomorrow, have an amazing night pretty girl."
Me: (Smiles. FINALLY catches a cab and heads downtown for original date)
Fast forward to this morning when I receive a text from GLRD:
(I say text because my text bubble is green instead of blue so I automatically downgrade him for not being an iPhone user and not having iMessage)
You know that whole snob thing? Yeah there it is again. Anyway.
GLRD: "Hey sexy..."
Me: (Oh good god, here we go) "Hey"
GLRD: "What are you wearing?"
Me: (You're kidding me right? He's joking right? Please tell me he's joking. I'll play along but this isn't looking good) "Umm, boots, leggings, shirt and cardigan."
Wait for it...
You know it's coming...
Me: (IS THIS GUY FOR EFFING REAL RIGHT NOW!?)
Please note that there are no quotes of speech next to my thought because I said nothing and deleted "Good Looking Random Dude" from my contacts...forever.
On to happier thoughts:
My actual date went rather well last night. Even though it was sprinkling the whole time. Even though my bangs turned into Shirley Temple curly q's. Even though the Knicks, Rangers, and Yankees all lost.
Why? Because he didn't ask me what undies I was wearing, AND we got guacamole for dinner.
If you're late to the party please check out some previous posts and realize my love for smashed avocados.
Cue applause for a successful date and a happy Erin...now.