Dick, dick, dick. I left the parking lot at 1:15 p.m., after nitwit decided not to be there at our agreed 1 p.m. time. He’s more worthless than I originally anticipated. Was I surprised? Oh, hell no. But I did waste a pair of scandalous underwear, at any rate.

420 Boy drove by around 1:02 p.m. — honked and pulled in next to me. We chatted for a few seconds, and he invited me to his house if dipshit didn’t show. Well, as 420 Boy was leaving, a black Volvo (Golf edition) pulled in very slowly, pulled in about five spots away from me, and backed out. I was fiddling with crap in the armrest, so it didn’t look like I was desperate or anything (which, obviously, I am, as I was being stood up right at that very minute). When I looked up, the car was already in reverse and crawling away from the desolate parking lot (as the restaurant didn’t open till 4 p.m. anyway).

I left an irate message for him at work (why would he even GIVE me that #? Now I know where to find him, not that I have any intentions on doing so) that the restaurant was closed and that had better not have been him, coming and then changing his mind before we even spoke to each other. I said, “Talk to you soon … MAYBE!” I figure, if it weren’t him, and he ended up in a cast or something, I didn’t want to sound like too much of an asshole. But I figure it was … a dorky guy with glasses … who else could it be?

He made himself out to be such a catch. Yeah, people catch brown trout, too. Let’s throw this one back. Ewww. Bastard.

So I spoke with The Artist Guy yesterday on the phone. I just want to have sex with his voice. LOL. YKW’s is still way sexier, but this one has a touch of a New York accent, so I was happily creaming in my jeans. He invited me to come to his studio, whenever I want, so I can meet him and his dog and cat and see his paintings. Mmmm. Said he’s a skinny white boy with tattoos. Didn’t ask what I looked like — BONUS!!! JS had asked right down to the dress size, which had irked me. I didn’t tell him outright (because, girls, we all know that we fluctuate sizes every damn day of the month), so he took a guess (about two sizes too small) and I said, “Something like that.” Then he mentioned my own size (remember, just two sizes bigger than he said), and he said he feels sorry for people who are “that big” because “they can’t even get around.” LOL. Dumbfuck. At any rate, I have The Artist Guy, Indie/Greek Guy, and Eager Guy, all waiting for me to make the next move, so I have three balls in my court. 🙂

My self-esteem was briefly deflated after today’s episode, but I did go to 420 Boy’s house for a two-hour lunch and he refused to let me feel bad, so I am doing just fine (thanks 420!!!).

Like the song I was listening to as I drove back to work, “Sooner or later, it’s over your shoulder.” (7 Mary 3, “Over Your Shoulder”)

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