Ah, the cook. Here we go. So from the first time we went out, two weeks ago today, he has called me every day. Even when he told me to call him, he has still called me. I love that. LOVE. I love that someone didn't feel the need to start his stopwatch in order to figure out how long he needed to wait so he didn't look needy. If you want to call me, for godsake do it.
Every day he called. Until yesterday. Friday he had shown up at my work unannounced, which I found sweet and not creepy at all given that he was coming over that way for some errands, my work is in a public location, and we had been having trouble touching base due to my work schedule. Man who takes initiative during courtship? Check.
Through the course of the day and evening, he invited me over three times to stop by informally if I got done with my own stuff. I finally reminded myself it was conceivable that he meant it and that I am not so powerful that others have to lie to me about wanting me around. Get over yourself, right?
Right. So, I saw him Friday night in what was a weirdly vibed set of moments. I thought I would be busy running about that evening, but I ended up with some time and dropped by his place to see him and his little friend who just had a baby. Yay babies. Congratulations and beer all around. I did have to remind myself that just because I wasn't giving him 8 hours notice, he had welcomed me over and it was really fine for me to be there. The thing was, then his friend left, he fell asleep (right after I opened wine, argh), and I went home. Cool, that's fine. I'd had a long day. But nothing after that. No call, and no call today...and today we were supposed to cook so that is officially called standing me up. WTF. I'm really hot, really nice, compassionate, kind, super funny, super smart, great in bed. So what's the deal?
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