Keeping The Stubble

I took a chance on love, but it shall not be.  Dating rule book is now back in effect.  Mr. Recently Separated flaked on our date tomorrow, and I doubt he was even going to tell me.

I’m a planner, I must know what I’m doing, when I’m doing it, and how I will be doing it… hmmmmmmmm what was I saying?  Oh right, I was talking about the flakster.  As I was saying, I’m a planner, so I sent Mr. RS a quick text to make sure we were still on for tomorrow evening.  I needed to know if shaving my legs still needed to be on my TO Do list for tonight.  Anyway, a few minutes later I get a text that goes a little something like this:

“Oh Hi Mr. Smarty, I unfortunately have to cancel tomorrow, as I have to go to (fake city).  My (fake) elderly aunt and uncle are moving to (another fake city), and they need my help moving.  I still want to meet you (bullshit), so I hope this is ok?”

Interesting.…. how strange that his elderly aunt and uncle just decided, today, to move cities tomorrow.  If I hadn’t messaged him, I would have wasted a perfectly good shave for nothing.  What ever the case, no loss here.

Instead, I will be having beers with one of my bestie male co-workers.  He’s a cutie, but much too young for me.  Still, I can drink wine and admire his… eyes — I’m pretty sure they’re brown.  Even better, I’m sure to have an interesting conversation, which I’m sure would not have been the case with RS.

Onwards and upwards — hairy legs and all.



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