Actually, guys, it's been a little over 2 weeks now and we haven't spoken or e-mailed at all. I thought I'd still be wallowing in misery at this point... but now, those little gut-wrenching pangs of agony are starting to lessen in intensity...
I neglected to mention... at the bar in Yellow Springs, where I noticed the hostess, I asked the bartender about her, and he said she's constantly having problems with her boyfriend. They're on the verge of breaking up.
Also, she came into the Outback where I work last week. She didn't know I worked there, but I could see she recognized me. And the boyfriend was with her. He had one of those thin little N*Sync beards, a loose red jersey, a baseball cap worn backwards, big thick gold chains, a heavy gold watch, big baggy Jenko's, and Airwalks. He looked like every wanna-be thug masta I ever met in Southwest Florida and Miami. He talked like Flava Flav.
I don't wish bad shit onto ANYONE, but those kinda guys, the guys who talk like they're "gangsta" yeeeah-yeeeah, I think they need to be phased out of society regardless. I mean, maybe the hippies were dirty and on drugs. But at least they stood for something. At least they had some kinda positive message, however assinine, naive, and idealistic those messages might have been. But these little gangsta thug-punks today... What message are they sending to society? What kinda stand are they making?
Hate me, flame me, damn me to cruel Fate, but just to HEAR those guys speak makes my fingernails itch.
And it's not like I'd ever ACT on these impulses. I seriously doubt I'd ever make a move on this chick. It's more like a test to see if I have the ability to flirt still in me. I feel kinda rusty.
AND I'M NOT MAKING EXCUSES FOR MYSELF!
But anyway...
Non
P.S. Wednesday, what's the Stripper story? I want to know, too.
