I am so hungover.
Last night, I get a text message from Patrick (The You're too young for me guy I dated just before meeting Harris) asking me out to Thai. I had already told him in a previous e-mail that I was seeing someone, so stop ignoring me already. Two months of no contact, and out of the blue he messages me. So, I went. I mean, why not?
We dined at this fabulous little seven table hole in the wall with the most adorable manchick waiter. Patrick brought a bottle of white wine to go with dinner, which we polished off easily. The Pad Thai is described on the menu as 'unbelievably delicious,' and I was only sort of mildly in disagreeance. Had there been more tofu, the description would have been spot-on. Conversation was always easy with him and I was very pleased that nothing had changed.
Left with nothing to do after 10PM, I suggested we hit the park with more chardonnay and make like delinquent teenagers. So we sat on the docks of White Rock, drinking expensive white wine straight from the bottle. At one point we fell asleep, looking up at the sky and remarking on the mating habits of ducks. It was so carefree and irresponsible, exactly the type of thing that is only okay to do with Patrick. My personality with him is unusually laid back. I can't explain it.
He dropped me off around 1:30AM, and promised to take me to Saturday Night in the City next month. I don't know if he will or not; I don't know if he'll ever call again. I've got my closure. All night, it was friendly and fun without any pressure or romance. He will either see how great it is to hang out as friends or he will decide, like last time, that it isn't worth the trouble.
I almost don't mind the headache.
We dined at this fabulous little seven table hole in the wall with the most adorable manchick waiter. Patrick brought a bottle of white wine to go with dinner, which we polished off easily. The Pad Thai is described on the menu as 'unbelievably delicious,' and I was only sort of mildly in disagreeance. Had there been more tofu, the description would have been spot-on. Conversation was always easy with him and I was very pleased that nothing had changed.
Left with nothing to do after 10PM, I suggested we hit the park with more chardonnay and make like delinquent teenagers. So we sat on the docks of White Rock, drinking expensive white wine straight from the bottle. At one point we fell asleep, looking up at the sky and remarking on the mating habits of ducks. It was so carefree and irresponsible, exactly the type of thing that is only okay to do with Patrick. My personality with him is unusually laid back. I can't explain it.
He dropped me off around 1:30AM, and promised to take me to Saturday Night in the City next month. I don't know if he will or not; I don't know if he'll ever call again. I've got my closure. All night, it was friendly and fun without any pressure or romance. He will either see how great it is to hang out as friends or he will decide, like last time, that it isn't worth the trouble.
I almost don't mind the headache.