First; yes, the casual passerby may catch me whispering intimately to my red bull. “God you’re so soooo good. I fucking love you. Oh God, you were made for me. I wish this would last forever.” Over the course of the last two years my office has become accustomed to my behavior and I’m hardly the only eccentric adrenaline junkie here. Although today is the first time I’ve worn the same work button down two days in a row …cause I didn’t go home last night! Cue Matt & Kim “Don’t Slow Down” and swagger. SWAGGER! Oh yeah, swagger.
Less, swagger, back to my actual life. (Okay, swagger!) I’m going to get fat and a DUI if I keep drinking with Cuba. For a little thing she holds a lot of booze. Although she yuked last night when we got back to her place, so not as much booze as she thinks she can hold. Beyond impressing me with her binge drinking skills, she amazed me with her charm. Evidence: at the art show she bought a bottle of vino tinto espanol, which we walked around drunking…directly from the bottle. Oh, you know the path towards my affections indeed. (Although texting me from the metro telling me you were thinking about getting a haircut suspiciously like mine freaked me the F out. Why do girls keep doing that!?)
Post game at Freddie’s Beach Bar; Cuba initiated a little bar stool makey outey. Yay! I saw Almost 3-some guy from my last (and only) visit, waved to him, and he joined us. Cuba talked him into giving her his t-shirt so we could make our “Dykes Dig This” t-shirts. You know, in a parallel universe where it isn’t 11pm and we don’t have to go to work early the next day. The bartender was much amused (and still hot) although I think we tried her patience when we started playing with the plastic animal garnishes. Being the only hot lesbian couple cute girls there made our antics more palatable cuter. Almost 3-some guy ended up buying us a round and roses, and gave me mad props re: Cuba’s charm/hotness.
Disconcertingly couple-ly behavior exhibited all night, although for my part I’m basically a really happy, swaggering, grinning fool who’s happy to be kissed publicly by a widely acknowledged hot girl. That’s pretty straight forward…right? (Except for the random “us” projects girl kept throwing out there…that was make believe….right?)
She made me breakfast again this morning, nothing special just some toast and coffee, but still sweet. She also took a cool picture of me at the gallery last night in a room of buttons suspended on wires hanging like cobwebs. I would like to get a copy of dis…except I would have to send her a Facebook friend request, which I am not ready to do. Ohh, that’s too much access to my life. I actually woke up last night with “No BRG haunts me there (and she does, not me being all stalky but her commenting on stuff I post) – can’t compromise the only connection I have left” flashing across my mind. Then I turned over, assumed the big spoon position, and went back to sleep. One sick puppy I am.
Sure it doens't fit the context, but what the hell
Made no new plans with Cuba when I left this morning, but I have her t-shirt in my truck. Because I’m evil a dyke having fun I’m sure I will text her blithely until I go out of town. And I’ll figure the rest of it out when I get back from my *fingers crossed* debauched vacation.
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