Daniel, oh Astrological Guru of the Signs, wtf is going on in my zodiac? What kind of crazy "dude-shit" has been playing with me since December?
So get this. Tonight, after working on some office work, I decide to peddle over to Paddy's and work on a short story that I've been revising and have a beer.
Well, I'm not there more than twenty minutes when in walks this very ruggedly handsome, tall dark, bearded, educated-looking, well-dressed (I can sniff-out intelligence like a dog on a trail) man. He wore a thin fashionable coat, which told me I knew he couldn't be local. Why? 1. no lameass Carhart jacket and Lee jeans 2. no lameass baseball/Nascar hat 3. a very intelligent available, attractive man is rare in these parts unless he's a. married or b. gay. He seemed to be neither. This is a rare occasion, indeed. It was all I could do to NOT gawk. In fact, I felt like taking pictures to hallmark the rare occasion, like you would do, say filming a moose sighting or a yeti in the woods.
One thing led to another and we started talking about what beers were good, and he let me know he was here on business and didn't really know what were good places to eat or stay since he's from San Diego. I teased him that he should have Yelped for these answers (like not all people in South Dakota are talking on two tin cans on strings, a common misconception when people observe this ridiculous state), then proceeded to tell him which places were good or lame.
Then next thing I knew, his cute friend showed up, and it turns out these two delightful creatures are photo-journalists, independent, and it seems well-respected. The one I liked, Robert, showed me random pictures from jobs on his whatever-you-call-it, Ipod/Netbook/Kindle/Doodad, whatever it was.
I laughed. I giggled. I flirted. I had such a good time that I wish I had it on film to document because no one would believe I had held court with such cuties in SOUTH DAKOTA. I kinda sensed Robert was into me (his friend was married). Before I knew it, he was showing me parlor tricks that were hilarious, like levitating, a floating knife. I roared with laughter and busted him on each prank. Then the next thing I knew, he was editing my short story. After all, he has an English/photo journalism degree--from what I recall was a prestigious university (sorry, his dark eyes made me temporarily forget which school).
We all bantered, guffawed, then before I knew it, two hours flew by. I modestly put on my jacket, and I'll be damned but if Robert not only asked me for my phone number, but my email too.
If that wasn't enough, he asked me what I was going to be up to for the next couple of days (he's only in town until Friday).
Wait a minute. He paid attention to me and asked for my number. Was this the prelude of a "date"? Isn't that a sign of a man who's interested in you? What is this?
Well, go figure.
I stayed an extra half an hour, simply because I loved talking to them, then they decided to move on to another bar before calling it a night. (I know. I should have played the hard to get card and left thirty minutes sooner, but I'm too old for games, and a sucker for attention from handsome men). Later on Robert texted me from his friend's phone, then proceeded to give me his own number, followed by me doing the absent-minded-professor gig with a Abbot and Costello "Who's on base?" song and dance, and then this morning, I squared away my phone and figured out it was Robert texting me last night, not his friend.
We'll see if he calls me, but BLESSINGS to the UNIVERSE for throwing a bone my way. Several times they said "Blah, blah, blah an attractive woman like you," and horribly under-guessed my age (by 13 years). What a glorious, and much needed gift!
So, we'll see. What with his filming schedule, he may be too busy to hang out, but it's the fucking attention that matters, the feeling that perhaps I AM NOT INVISIBLE that matters, so for that thank you Universe. I love you.