So, ok… I walked again and was late… again.. SHOOT me! I called, I was 14 minutes late. It was f’n HOT… not to mention I moved to the Village today so I misjudged the time it would take to walk in heels.
He was less than pleased, sort of joking but I called him on it and apologized for being late. He said I’ve never been on time, which I corrected him that I was early 2 times.. well 1 time and on time 1 other on time and maybe he should plan things 15 minutes later and give me an earlier call time. I don’t mean it. He says I’m stubborn and HAVE to walk. I’m not sure that’s stubborn.., thrifty, perhaps? Maybe I just enjoy walking?
Dinner was at a place, which I’ve dined, Frank’s Italian, in the East Village, his suggestion, so I didn’t want to poo poo his plan. He HAD a plan, mind you. The food was delightful; the ambiance was loud.. much louder than when I sat outside by myself talking to two salesmen from Oregon and Baltimore. He was razzing me about not remembering ALL of our conversations at the Vodka Bar last week. He revealed some of the lost memories with tales of his smoking and us sharing our admiration for one another.
We walk to a jazz bar a few blocks away; I hold his arm, he strangely stiffens up. What is with that? Why do guys think that if a woman takes an elbow or forearm that they immediately bend there arm so as to keep our hand from falling down? It makes them feel weird or at least stiffen up and walk differently. Sorry. Ok, so we sit outside on a bench in the now warming evening… a glass of booze, to which he claims not to be a lush.. oh!! We ended up at the jazz bar since I declined his offer to go back to his place to have a drink. Really? Is that where the night was going? ‘Cause I wasn’t feeling it go there. We had just spoken over dinner about how he didn’t kiss meon the 1st couple dates because he liked me but wasn’t sure that there was interest on my part so he HAD to kiss me on the 4th date or there wasn’t going to be a 5th date at all. “I wasn’t going to waste my time if we hadn’t kissed that night” he said to me. “Really? ‘Cause the difference I liked about you was that you didn’t shove your tongue down my throat on the 1st meeting”, I replied. THIS was our dinner conversation. Really? do you think I’m going home with you?
Our evening ends with him waiving down a cab and putting us into it. “2 stops” he says.. his, then mine, claiming he forgot I had moved to the Village.. ok! Again, asking if I was going to come over. I say “another time” and he’s off with a slight peck.
Crazy! not a word about seeing each other again. No text or call today.. another thing he told me he didn’t like was talking onthe phone nor my delayed responses in text. “replies should be immediate with texts” were his words. Wow, really? Not sure I’m liking him as much right now. Think that sex thing is the main thing on his brain and not getting to know me… that’s too bad… really.