So, ok, there was a redhead, which is something that Jess and I both agree should be cherished and appreciated, and possibly pulled into a closet for 7 Minutes in Heaven.
Unfortunately, treacles, this particular redhead's closet is already full... and no, not with anything hot like another guy wearing nothiní but his Calvins. No, this one has an ex-wife that isn't quite an ex-wife yet, as well as a two-year-old daughter, an extensive knowledge - which he was willing to share, even! - of Dora: The Explorer, and a whole other load of baggage that isn't even Vuitton and therefore not in any way attractive. Also, he's a low-speaker and that gets really old after a while... especially since whatever I'm struggling to hear isn't worth listening to in the first place. I mean, hello! How many times does Monty Python need to be quoted in one four-hour span? Hmm? The parrot is dead! I understand! Can we talk about something else now?
Plus, the more I looked at him, the more he I realized he has one of those character-less faces that seem to be moulded from soft butter. Y'know?
* * *
Anyway, your Mare has been busy. Along with the Monty Python-quoting redhead I went out with last week, I also had dinner with a truly spectacular guy. Well, he should have been spectacular...
I mean, he's a lovely guy. He was very nice, very well-rounded, and articulate, with excellent manners. He's got a good close-knit group of friends that are the source of many heart-warming stories, so I know he's well-liked. He's got bad taste in music (AC/DC, Metallica, Aerosmith blech...) but at least he shows preference for something. (It's amazing how many people out there hold exactly no opinions, people!) Plus, he also plays piano and loves the classical stuff. Oh, and he's Italian! He's Italian, with his own accounting practice! If my mother had been there, she would have been sticking her elbow in my side and telling me to move a little closer to the guy!
We even made easy conversation all night long. I would be LUCKY to have him. Except...
I don't want him.
And it's not because he's kind of short. And it's not because we went for Japanese, and he didn't even TRY to use the chopsticks. And it's not even because I spent most of dinner trying to figure out which of his eyes to look into, because one of them obviously had its own agenda, only I couldn't tell which one. (I'm going straight to hell, aren't I?) It's not even because he dresses like my father, my uncle, my other uncle, my other uncle...
There was just... nothing. It's too bad though. I kind of want to set him up with someone, because he truly would make a wonderful boyfriend to a very petite, non-shallow, non-judgemental woman who isn't dead on the inside. Any takers?
* * *
This Friday, Iíve an engagement with a lovely fellow. Weíre going to see Matt and Ben which makes me very excited. Even if he turns out not to live up to his very excellent cocktail party conversation Ė and letís not even talk about how few people actually DO live up to their initial excellent cocktail party conversations! - Iíve been longing to see this show forever. I have hopes though, because every time we speak, I tend to make an idiot of myself. That has to be a good sign, right?
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