Can women have blue balls, too?
Okay, so I totally could have gotten laid tonight.
Chatted with Greg this evening, who called to invite me over to watch the football game (um, who’s playing? lol) and to partake of nighttime festivities. Damn. I’ve at least got to play a little hard-to-get, so I tantalized him with what we COULD be doing tonight, if I weren’t tucked in for the evening. Heh. We were laughing so much, he said his face was hurting. I told him I could make his face hurt from exerting it from other types of activities. 🙂
At any rate, we ended the conversation with a promise from him that he will call me tomorrow. I love men who call. Ability to dial 10 consecutive digits is a remarkable trait in a homo sapien, and I should reward him accordingly. And I probably will, soon. Not that I shared this with him, but I’m just dealing with the not-so-fresh feeling that accompanies the end of the Red Tide, and let’s face it, I want the full treatment when I finally do hook up with a hot-blooded male, so it was completely in my best interest to wait … and to make him wait. (It wouldn’t have been a case of the Wacky Wild Kool-aid Smile, if that’s what you’re wondering. Ewwwww. Just a mild case of Ick.) Ahem. At any rate, men like the thrill of the chase, and he’s going to need to work a little bit harder before I can help him to make something ELSE harder.
RK told me today that he had a date this past Saturday and that he’s misplaced my number for the second time. He’s lucky my Internet connection went down right at that very moment, because I was unsure how to respond to that, but chances are, it probably wouldn’t have been courteous anyway. Hey, we’re all free to date, but #1., I wonder what his intent was in sharing that tidbit, and #2., what does he want me to say, when I believe he’s had ample opportunity to ask me out and, yet, hasn’t?
I get it, though. I really do. I was at least amused with our conversations, but all-talk/no-action has never been my speed, and that’s exactly what this has been. The thrill of the chase works both ways — I love to be chased, and let’s face it, I allow myself to get caught. And it’s to everyone’s benefit that I get worked up in the process, trust me, but there’s got to be an outlet eventually. And not just a sexual outlet, but a method of in-person companionship as well. Honestly, is that asking too much?