I had been standing on the platform talking to T, when this guy walked by. 6'4" brown hair, blue eyes, dressed smooth. He was buying tokens when I passed, walking down steps, alert for eyes behind, presence stretched out, expanding. I slipped to a crouch and started sketching, when he came down the steps after me.

My first thought was, damn, that looks like someone I would marry.

And then he walked away.

Not that I'd marry someone on looks alone. I dated someone with no brains or apparent substance once; it didn't work. He was a Ken doll. Pretty to look at, and may at times exhibit an outward suggestion of normalcy, but in reality there's nothing there. Just plastic and features colored with paint. Also in female version. See: Barbie.

I got tired of balencing my book on my knees and my body on my heels so I got up to find a bench seat. And the only seat was...Guess. Yep. Next to subway boy.

The train came and he sat 3 seats away from me, sliding glances, and I half pretended not to notice. When I got off he followed me to the street and chatted me up.

I told him straight up that I was dating someone. He didn't seem to care much. Probably cause I played it down. Obviously anyone reading this (few as it may be) realize the lack of relationship I have with R. So played it down I did.

After a few sessions of phone tag, and talking a bit outside of school across the street where he works, we finally settled on a night to hang out.

Kay and D-Bo are the only 2 people that are informed of the situation. D-Bo said go for it, and Kay half guilt tripped me. She was, as she puts it, intrigued.

What if this was meant to be and I give it up for a jerk? Huh? She gave me "permission": Go on one date. I can't hurt.

Sure it can't. That's like expecting to fuck a porcupine and walk away not bleeding. Hell, just expecting to walk...

So I met up with him Friday night after stopping in at school. We decided food was a good idea. It was around 10:30 and neither of us had eaten since about noon. I had a nice experiance with an exploding napkin holder. Poof! It looked like the table had a pillow fight. If said pillows were filled with napkins. Not as comfortable as feathers I'd expect.

Enough digression. We walked a bit, we talked a bit. We went to a packed bar and left within 2 minutes. We went to another bar and I almost got in a fight with the waitress.

Miss waitress appeared to be a beligerent drunk. No exaggeration.

I got tired of waiting for her to come over to our seats, so I went to the bar and waited for the bartender.

Drunk bitch pushed me out of the way. Literally. Then went to serve whomever she was bringing the beers to that I was shoved out of the way for. Uh huh. Strike one.

While I was ordering, she came back and nudged me with her elbow and told me to sit down and she would bring them over. Strike two.

In what establishment, anywhere, do you half knock the paying customers over, excepting a case when the customer is causing a disturbance? NO WHERE. That is not a way to get a good tip sweetheart.

I bought myself an Ameretto sour, and Subway a Yuengling, he having paid for dinner. We chatted nonsense, watched Drunk waitress spill pints of beer, and got a little more comfortable.

I told him I was a bit hesitant. He kissed me. Yeah you heard me right. He kissed me. And I liked it a little too much. First kisses are the best. Anticipation pulls your breath up and holds it tight in a fist, and keeps holding it stolen after you lean back, running away leaving you to try to catch it. There I was, making out with some guy in the corner booth of a bar. Arrgg.

Like I don't have enough problems already.

We finished our drinks and started to leave. Drunk waitress tossed our check on the table when I told her we didn't want another drink. Strike THREE.

Sorry bitch, we're not wracking up a $30 bill tonight. Eat my one dollar tip. I couldn't stiff her. I'm too nice. But I really wish I had a 100 pennies.

We kissed a bit more in the car. And in the car some more when we got back to his house.

Didn't I say I have enough problems? Apparently my twisted psyche wants to make it more complicated.

R., Padg, and Subway.

What am I doing??

.

.

Saturday night I cried myself to sleep.

1, 2, 3, 4...

(This is not smut, or porn and it is not always explict so don't be expecting anything)