Sammy says, “Happy Summer Bitches!”
I swear that more weird shit happens to me than the normal person. I was walking Sammy (the love of my life) last night, and this guy is sitting on a bench and asks me if I need a painter to paint my house. I said no, that I’ve just thankfully finished all my home improvements. So he asks about any of my friends and I say that I don’t know. But I tell him I will hang his card on our bulletin board in my building. So one thing leads to another, and despite the fact that he is sitting on said bench with a woman, he gets up to follow me as I’m trying to inch away back toward my condo and now I’ve got a hanger-on that I can’t shake.
He starts fishing into my life like we’ve been old friends for years or something, asking all these crazy questions that basically amount to him hitting on me. Now, this man had ONE tooth left of the whole lower set, and only a few on top. I’m thinking, “Ok, I’m no supermodel, but, hello? Don’t you know that you and I are in different leagues?” I have no idea why people cannot figure out what league they are in. Those who are 1-3’s must also date those in the 1-3 category. I think 4-6’s should mate up and 7-9’s should date. Now, for the elusive 10’s – a.k.a. Brad Pitt, he needs another 10, such as, oh, Jennifer Aniston. Come on people. Get it right. I shouldn’t have to draw you a picture when you are hitting on me, should I? (Here’s you. Note how ugly you are. Now, here’s me. I’m so cute and rich and thin…)
Today I took my laptop, phone and dog to lay out on the roof. Love that wireless connection but I got suntan lotion on my backspace key. Anyway, I went topless. After an hour I realized that the building next door has full view to our roof. Am I going to end up in some pictures that I won’t be able to live down? They are just boobies, but this IS Washington D.C. People are conservative here.
Mike seems to be upset with me. He and I have played phone tag and frankly I forgot whose damn turn it is to call back. Now I just get a voicemail that says I’m playing Houdini or something and to call when I surface. I really can’t get this dating thing right can I?
Mom and Dad are coming tomorrow. I’ve hidden all the incriminating evidence.