Funny how one can go from full on gangsta to adorable spinster in two point two seconds. Ever since the party, it has been radio silence, from all of my suitors. French Victor texted on Saturday to ask how long the party would be going, and I said late, then waddled upstairs to pass out at 2 am. I fear he came, saw a bevy of drag queens singing in 17 part harmony around the piano, and took off. Well then he's NOT for ME.
Thankfully, ExBFname hasn't contacted me. He probably found me to be too subtle and quiet. Actually, I have a tendency to mimic others, so maybe he's telling his buddies that I'm loud and obnoxious. That thought just made my day.
I'm assuming I'll hear from Sober Guy as the weekend approaches, but one never knows with this game.
The good news is, I did end up spending most of my Saturday evening with a foreign hairy guy, but he is also one of my besties. The thought of touching him conjures up memories of excerpts from Flowers in the Attic.
So the saga continues. Stay with me people. I can't do this alone.
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