Saturday night, Halloween. I went on a date with Ross. I somehow thought he was going to be a 30-year-old Aussie with firm muscles all over - instead, he turned out to be an ugly Asian with a big mole on his face. We walked to the luna park, with me pretending to be interested in the conversation. At the beginning I planned to text my friend and ask him to call me and tell me something bad happened so I could have an excuse to leave. But at the end, I went straight to Ross and told him the impossibility of sex between us. Of course he didn't like it, but I figured, despite his ugliness, he deserved to know the truth!
So, see'ya, Mole. What a Halloween night!
And the next day, a sharp noise from my cell phone woke me up. Apparently that was the 5th text message for the day, and they were all "booty-messages". That meant I got to choose. I was never a person who judges a book by its cover - OK, I lied. I've always been a person who judges a book by its cover. But this time, I decided to take a different approach - judging a man by the text message he had sent me. Isn't this being done all the time by the girls, that every single word and punctuation of a letter or a text message is psychoanalyzed so that the "true thoughts", which usually are "I want to get laid", in men's heads can be revealed??
So, which one should I choose: Hotel millionaire who was leaving for Thailand in 5 days? Or the 25-year-old architect/surfer with firm 6-pack?...
Wait, that one: "Gosh you're so sexy!" Hmmm...I guess I had to agree with that! And so I ran along Cleveland St to Surry Hills. But the closer I got, the more ticklish I felt in my stomach...."What if he doesn't like me?""What if he thinks I look different from my profile picture?". When he opened the door my heart was pounding so hard that I was almost bursting...
Guy No. 7: Paul, 32-year-old learning designer for a well reputed insurance company. Held 3 bachelor degrees and a diploma, including a bachelor of law. Used to be working in London but recently moved back. But I swear my heart did burst out, for a different reason - he was SOOOOO cute! How could someone so cute think I was sexy! And yes, he kept saying it when I was in his apartment. He kept saying it when we were kissing. And he kept saying it when we were cuddling...
And, here it goes: 348 days left, 43 men to do!
By the way, a publisher friend of mine who is supposed to be planning a big holiday together, and who will probably flying to Asia with me in less than a month, caught up at work and hasn't returned any of my phone calls for a week. I think he might be dead.
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