In Uncategorized on February 23, 2012 at 4:54 AM

When I look over my neglected blog, born just a short time ago yet still neglected by me so much, I think, welp, let’s make sure I have a husband and nearby friends for when I want to raise a baby. Days will pass. I’ll look around at how my husband has rearranged the furniture and while I’m rearranging everything back, I’ll see a rattle or the credit card that I used to help pay for said baby or I’ll pull my iPod ear phones out long enough to hear a scream, and I’ll gasp, Oh! Baby! Baby? Has it been eating?

Blog! Blog?

So I learned this week that when an insurance provider finally gets around to declaring your wrecked car totaled, they stop paying for your rental. Should’ve called the lawyer back to see what she was eager to tell me before I was charged for a week of car rental. Thankfully, somehow, the insurance valued my car and will cut me a check for $2000 more than I originally paid for my car used six years ago. I’m not challenging how that works. Just very happy that when I’ve finally settled, I’ll be able to buy a bicycle, replace a frying pan I accidentally set on fire, pay off some debts. Just begin again…a little.

Wish that I had a bicycle for this inbetween time of finishing treatment while carless and unsettled, though. I could peddle to the tram and ride that tram anywhere: the suburb above me, the suburb below me, Heaven, Dallas gang areas. I’ll just peddle from the station, big smile.

Speaking of peddling, I met my friend, M’s, riding group. (Yes, I know I’ve never mentioned M but you really don’t need back story on here yet. We met in college, though. Apparently she thought I was an asshole and I thought that she was a bitch.) M’s group speeds all over Dallas. Sometimes in formation, like geese. (At least, in my head.) She finally just moved to downtown Dallas from a suburb so that she could be less than a mile from home after the peddling and bar hopping.

I met them all at one’s divorce party (more on that someday). Raucous, horny, goofy group. I liked almost everyone that I met.

There was this one guy though. I’m not so sure about him. He’s M’s new guy. But not really her guy because she doesn’t want to use labels…or date a cyclist then have the whole group in their drama.

So this is her third guy from the group.

I met him really fast. He said, “Hi,” then explained his nickname, then walked off to text M for the rest of the night even though he could’ve just stayed standing next to her. I would’ve mingled. There was champagne and cake. But only on the first night. The second night, no one was celebrating divorce or celebrating meeting me. We bar hopped instead.

At the first bar, we met with some people. I sat next to this big brother type in the group who I immediately liked the first time we met. You know, the strong yet sensitive type you know will be there to fix your toilet or change your tire once you’ve become good friends, even if it’s in the middle of a summer day beside the highway. (Not a good place for your toilet. Oh, not funny? Well, there are more bad jokes to accost you so BE WARNED). He was eating chilli. So I ordered vegan chilli and Fritos. We sang along to ‘Don’t Stop Believing’.

M’s guy was sitting on the other side of the long table. I didn’t recognize him in his helmet. But then, would I really have known him after such a short chat? We didn’t make out.

He slid next to M, who was sitting across from me. He didn’t say much to me. Just to her. That’s cool. I was having my own fun like I do. But when I looked back over, he was eating my chili. He had my spoon up to his mouth and was hoovering the top of the spoonful into his mouth, not touching his lips to the spoon. He then laid my spoon back on top of my chili.

Now I’m not a germaphobe. If I had known him, I wouldn’t have minded. Maybe. But I didn’t know him. He’s some guy who wants to get in my friend’s pants. Nothing wrong with that. But why does my chili have to be involved?

When he saw my look, he explained, “I didn’t touch the spoon.” I said something really silly like, “that’s okay. You can just pay for my tip.” He said, “ummm,” then rolled his eyes.

He apologized later, opened a door for me, then walked off. I told him that he didn’t have to impress me. I don’t have any final say on whether or not M should keep a casual or serious thing going. But he didn’t have to try to be unimpressive.

Glad this is just some casual thing. Though I now want him to do that to every one of our mutual friends to see their reactions. I may use part of my settlement money to arrange this. Because my credit card bill isn’t that out-of-control yet. Not like I’ve paid for a baby.

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