I reckon at least some of my loyal readers are wondering how my “date” went yesterday. Here’s the lowdown:
“April” was scheduled to arrive at 3:00. Shortly before the appointed hour, she messaged me to say she’d be late. I asked how late, and she eventually responded she’d arrive at 4:00. Okay, well, my balls were in the crockpot, so that was no big deal. I turned off the gas but left the bread in the oven. Did the same on the stovetop with the corn. The brussel sprouts were in the microwave to melt some cheese on top, and I left them there. The meal was salvageable, at least.
Except when April arrived, she wasn’t hungry, saying she ate with her kids before leaving home. Okay, that’s on me because I hadn’t told her I was cooking. Instead, we had a beer and sat on the patio, enjoying the view until the sinking sun got in our eyes and chased us back inside. While sitting at the kitchen table, I asked April the purpose of her visit. To her credit, she was honest in her response: money.
She wasn’t quite that blunt, instead phrasing it as her bar not allowing barfines, so she thought I might like a “happy ending” in exchange for some cash. I wasn’t really surprised that that was her intent, although I will admit to some level of disappointment. The whole meal thing had been my way of maintaining the illusion of a date, just in case that was her intention. So, she got what she came for, and perhaps I got lucky in the sense that I didn’t get strung along and played for a fool again. Plus, I managed to pace myself and avoid the dreaded breathing attack. That’s a whole other kind of happy ending.
April messaged me today, saying she wants to see me again when I have free time. Hmm, maybe I should turn that around on her and say I’d be happy to see her when her time is free. Who knows what will happen next? Anyway, one day at a time.
After sending April on her way with money in her pocket, I salvaged the remains of the meal and carried some of the leftovers with me to Hideaway. I also ordered the girls a Hawaiian pizza from Shamboli’s and brought along a batch of brownies. I must say, my balls were quite popular with the girls.
After Hideaway, I visited Mugshots again. I really do enjoy the ambiance and comfort of this bar. They were playing some country tunes last night, my waitress was rubbing my back, and I was at peace with the world. Does that mean I surrendered? I don’t know. Why fight it? I’m just going to go with the flow and see where it takes me.
Come Christmas; it will be taking me here:
Nothing special about my regular Solitary Sunday Stroll. I modified my usual route some and did the photo every 1.6K (one mile) thing.
I was finally able to get my Relive app to sync with my Map My Walk app on the new phone, so have at it if you are so inclined:
And now it is another beautiful morning here on Hash Monday.
It’s a Leech My Nuggets trail, and that means long and hard. There may be a shortcut in my future. We’ll see.
For I shall always let thee do, In generous love, just what I please. Peace comes, and discord flies away, Love’s bright day follows hatred’s night; For I am ready to admit That you are wrong and I am right.
Maybe that’s why I’m single…
Ever tried grilled or seared Brussels sprouts? Amazing ways to handle an otherwise dreary vegetable.
Except when April arrived, she wasn’t hungry, saying she ate with her kids before leaving home.
At first, I read that as “she ate her kids before leaving home.” Prepositions save lives.
Sorry the meal with “April” was for nothing. You go to great lengths to preserve an illusion, I must say. If you’re really seeking love, find the woman who comes to you for you, not for your damn money.
At least you didn’t suffocate. We’ll chalk that up as a plus. The other plus is that you got a different set of girls to enjoy your balls. Conan, what is good in life? Crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the women slurping on your balls.
The Mango’s Christmas menu looks excellent, even if the cold-shrimp appetizer looks weirdly incongruous. Still, I wouldn’t say no to cold shrimp and guac. As for buffets in general, I’m a big fan. I don’t care too much about other people’s snot and spit getting in my food. Toughens the immune system, I say.
Nice walk. Rivers and bridges and mountains—oh, my!
Good to see pics of the dawgs. More, more! If nothing else, you’ve made two little souls very happy, and not by giving them money.
I hope today’s Hash went well.
Nope, never worked that hard on Brussels sprouts. I just boil them (or microwave) with some butter and cheese before dining on Frankenstein’s brains.
Coincidentally, I DID eat April, and I wasn’t even hungry.
“find the woman who comes to you for you, not for your damn money”
Well, I wasn’t sure of her motivation when we made the date, I was hoping it was about me, but she proved me wrong.
Yeah, that shrimp appetizer stood out for me, too. Never had that dish as part of a holiday feast. And it’s not the snot and spit that I don’t like about buffets (but thanks for reminding me!), I just find food that’s been sitting out for unknown lengths of time unappetizing. But I’ll get to Mango’s Mango’s early on Christmas and eat it while it’s fresh.
Yep, if I could only find me a woman who loves me as much Buddy and Lucky do!