Thursday, September 16, 2010

literally biting the hand that feeds

I cancelled another date. It's becoming a serious problem. 9 out of 10 times this doesn't bother me, because once the date is cancelled I rarely have to see the guy again, other than the random run-ins on J street on drunken Friday nights, but this time it is one of those exceptions. An exception that I fall into more often than I'd like.
I can officially say "Oops, I did it again."

Since I've been single in midtown, I've gotten attached to quite a few watering holes. Ahem. I've gotten attached to one spot at a time. What makes me leave one pseudo-home for the next one? I tend to date the help. Or, as is my way, make dates and then cancel them, and in order to avoid awkwardness, find a new place to hang out.

This was my first venturing outside of the "bartender"type. The date I cancelled this week was with an executive chef! I thought by getting out from behind the bar I might be making a step in the right direction. The though has merit... but my follow through is severely lacking. There goes my late-night-taco stop, my mid-afternoon-burger joint, my Sunday-funday hangout. I'd rather find a new bar than deal with that awkwardness.

From now on I only date make dates with people who work in bars I severely dislike. Thats the right moral to get from this story, right?
...right?
L

2 comments:

  1. the bartender type isn't always so bad. and ex-bartenders..? even better. just saying.

    miss you in austria. hope all's well. you get a letter if you send your address. :)

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  2. Reminds me of a song. No particular song, just that this is the stuff songs are made of. It is currently an unsung song - a song-blank. It's been my experience that as soon as I stop looking for what I think I need, it comes to me. Much easier said than done, however.

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