Date 6: Remember Tracker? I gave him and his bad jeans another chance, and we met up at a state park over the weekend. It was a lovely outing--we learned some of the historical background of the geographical area, met some authentic-looking fur trappers (complete with flint-started fires and beaver traps), had lunch and played disc golf. It was something that would be enjoyed with a friend...but the chemistry just wasn't there.
And please keep this a secret, but I might have snuck off to use the restroom in order to text that darn 22-year-old...
As we were saying goodbye, he asked if I would like to hangout again. *Siiiiiiigh.* I paused, thought about it, and said reluctantly, "Hmm..possibly." I then went on to say that I was going to be out of town for the next few weekends, and I'm hoping he got the hint, but he mentioned trying to call or text in a few weeks, so we'll see.
Date 7: After becoming incredibly frustrated with his superbly poor texting etiquette (his only reasonable excuse is that he's 33, so maybe he just doesn't get technology like the young'uns do?), I made plans with another online prospect. I met for drinks downtown with "McBride" (a country music reference, not that he is a serial husband), and I would say that it was a relatively successful venture. There were things about him that I liked, but he does like heavy metal music, so...
Anyway, I must have made a good enough impression, because we're having dinner together on Wednesday. I don't really see things going very far, but I'M TRYING, AND THAT'S WHAT MATTERS, DAMMIT!
And in other news, Coug Bait is out of town, but giving me enough of a hook via text (no, not like that!) that I bought Mamma Mia! and have to watch the "Does Your Mother Know" scene over and over just to cope...
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