Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Post Non-Date Date

When one wakes up after a date, albeit a date that went really well, one typically has a giddy feeling of butterflies with hints of unknown anticipation of what's to come. 

The non-date date was really nice.  Really, really nice; almost perfect, if it weren't for the dark stormy cloud known as HE'S MARRIED floating over our heads the entire night.

Sure, he didn't wear his wedding ring...but I wasn't born yesterday, I could tell he was nervous at the thought of getting caught out with another girl, even though I made things PERFECTLY CLEAR they were just as friends.

Karma has a funny way of rearing it's head in situations like this.  Take, for example, the time leading up to him picking me up (something he insisted on doing...uggh).  I was walking back from getting my son situation with the neighbors when BOOM!  My favorite sassy shoes broke.  It wasn't the type of break that could be repaired, so in the garbage they went. 

The second event that happened on the non-date date was our was. HORRIBLE.  We both opted for the sandwich special; the BLT.  Unbeknownst to us, the BLT was served with the thickest slicked of breaded deep-fried bacon known to man.  I'm a huge fan of bacon, but this, my friends, was DISGUSTING.  The server had gotten the impression we were on a date; and had basically left us alone the majority of the meal, but when asking us if we needed a box she was taken aback when we both said no (without hesitation).  She asked if everything was alright and we sheepishly told her the food was not what we had expected.  We decided (on the spot) to split a bacon cheese burger; and it was delicious. 

After dinner, of which he insisted on paying (even though this was a non-date date), we stumbled across the street to a sports bar and bellied up.  It was nice sitting next to him, I admit, I was getting caught up.  Behind us sat a stuffed animal claw machine; we decided to be silly and put a dollar in, each taking a turn.  He ALMOST had a Twins bear, so I swooped in after him and sealed the deal (a prediction for the future?  UGGH...I need to stop, I digress).  The entire time at the sports bar was nice.  We opened up to each other a bit, in fact, we talked a LOT.  It felt great to not feel the pressure of impressing him, ya know, since he's still married and all. 

To end the night we had a fire outside at my place.  It was the perfect night for a fire.  I love the outside space at my house.  All was well until I literally biffed it in front of him, nearly face-planting and closely averting my iron rod furniture.  It was embarrassing, but hilarious to say the least; karma's last ditch effort to bring me back to reality....the reality that slapped me in the face today; I've secretly fallen for a married guy who will never leave his wife, but I'll never tell him I've fallen for him so it's better if I just forget the whole thing and move on.  Hmph.

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