restoring faith in men is a (near) impossible task
these days, i can't really say much about men anymore.
dialogue meanders toward predictable subjects centering around 'urges'. 11:11 is brunch time. and don't even think of that phone call on your birthday. really, expectations are worse than dwindled.
so much so that even the slightest act of chilvary from a (cute) bookshop clerk is enough to restore the tiniest ounce of faith i have in the notion of The Thoughtful Man.
i received a call, out of the blue, from my favourite comic book guy (who now not only knows my name, but also has my phone number. hee). he calls me up in the afternoon, apologizing profusely for interrupting me at work, and proceeds to tell me that he's put aside a copy of the newest comic book from an artist he remembers me mention my fondness for.
"i've put it behind the counter for you, so i'll probably see you soon?" *heart flutters*
i know this may merely sound like he's doing his job by keeping up sales, but i like to think that that is besides the point.
oh what the hell, maybe i'm just spending too much time (and money) at the comic books section.