However, I can tell you this. He pissed me off on Friday when I texted to see if he might want to hang out at some point over the weekend. He replied, "I have plans on Saturday, but maybe Sunday." Screw you. "Maybe Sunday." ?? The last thing I want to be is a girl you aren't that psyched to hang out with. I didn't reply to his lame text and instead started texting with another guy with whom I had emailed enough to exchange phone numbers.
We'll call him "Billy." Billy's profile pictures were smokin'. One kind of looked like Adrian Grenier, who happens to be in my top 3 celebrity crushes (Matt Damon and Gabriel Garcia Bernal filling out the roster, in case you were wondering.) Those pictures were enough to offset his really short, misspelled profile.
We decided to meet up at a local bar and grab a drink. He's the definition of "tall, dark and handsome." He's also kind of the definition of "I know I'm tall, dark and handsome." He's a race car mechanic, and he's super psyched about it. He has his last name tattooed on the back of his neck. I'm pretty sure he checked out a few girls at the bar while I was talking. But what pretty blue eyes!
We bar-hopped for a few more beverages. He's the kind of guy I'm pretty psyched to be entering a bar with. If I saw a girl walk in with him, I'd probably think, "That girl is not that cute and probably a bitch." Just being honest.
Not-that-long-of-a-story made shorter for dignity purposes, he didn't like Alfie and didn't try to pretend he did. Other things went wrong, too, and I'm pretty sure that's where the story of Jessie and Billy ends.Still no word from the guy who pissed me off. Right when I feel like I'm en fuego, I realize I'm really more like some smoldering coals. But don't I have the cutest kitten? He's a great cuddler too.
That is a pretty cute cat. And I don't even like cats.
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