That thong, thong-thong-thong-thong

Thought I may have been developing a crush on my photog. Upon closer reflection, I'm not.

I am currently obsessed with the lovely Ms. Billi Holidae's Smoke Gets In Your Eyes and Misty. I have always been a Billie junkie but lately I listen to those two nonstop and it makes me smile. Ironically Billie herself was a junkie for real, if internet resources are to be trusted. Sad really.

So I have not managed to connect with (physically meet) this guy that my friend.... no no aquaintance has tried to set me up with. He works....all the time. ALL THE TIME. I dunno if he's just trying to avoid meeting me. I am not too stressed though. I have no rush to get to know him. Not that he's not a nice boy, I am sure he is but i don't know him and I am just too tired to get worked up over a man these days. I mean, really get worked up not just silly crushes that last for half an hour.

Guess who featured back into my life late last night? Or should I say early this morning? Peanut. or B, whichever nickname you kept up with. Mr. D.C. The one man I almost got lost in. Who never saw me as more than a passing fad. The one man I almost let into my heart but was saved from doing that. He called me last night.

I haven't spoken to him in a long time. And out of the blue he picked up his phone and called me. For no reason.

I can't say it was a very enlightening phone call. But we talked a bit. We reflected on the randomness of how we met and how we've kept in touch for over a year and a half. It's funny, we have nothing at all in common and it was a fluke that our paths crossed at all once. We have no business knowing each other and certainly no business being friends. But we are. And I think I am now in a good place about him.

Of course there is still that dull ache inside when I think of what might have been and what I gave up for him without really thinking or weighing my options. I can see now how totally wrong he was for me but still there is no closure because I never got the satisfaction of knowing he cared for me. Truly. I dunno that I need the closure but I attribute it to the ache I get once in a blue moon.

I was lighthearted and no-strings-attached with him over the phone last night. It was....

I don't really know what it was. Not special. It just was. I hope this means I am dealing with all those old ghosts that flooded my soul when I opened myself up to him. Ok, too deep.

I met a freak today. I don't normally like to use that word but I think he very well fit the description. I was minding my own business at work today when he came into the store to buy a snack. He was kinda cute but didn't make my liver quiver you know?

Anyway, apparently he has pretty eyes because he said they were green (I didn't pick up on that without my glasses) and another girl that came in the store told him he had gorgeous eyes. He was my height and light skinned and broke the ice by telling me over and over and over again how pretty he thought I was. OK, that was a little much.

He began talking about wierd things and somehow he broached the subject of the wildest things he used to want to do. One was bunjee jumping, which he chickened out on at the last minute. The other was licking a woman. That is exactly what he said. He said when he was eighteen he desperately wanted to lick a woman. Lick a woman THERE. Ya, you know where.

Disturbing as the conversation was headed, I indulged him. Simply because Sunday's are slow and strange individuals fascinate me to the utmost. He did just that. He went into depth about things my ears had no business hearing but I indulged him. Then he told me he always wanted to model in his underwear for some lucky girl. Well, technically he said special, not lucky. And he wouldn't stop talking about it. And interjecting every so often how pretty he thought I was.

I was getting off my shift and he wanted to walk me out on his way to the library. I thought it was harmelss enough. When we got outside, he said he wanted to flash me. And he did. He showed me his underwear because he said I looked very curious as to what he looked like in his undies. I would have thought it was just some silly, goofy thing had he been wearing boxers. He was wearing a Joe boxer thong.

I don't recall ever seeing anything quite so disturbing and unappealing in my life.

Moral of the story? Men should never wear thongs. Ever. Boxers should be law. And those who break the law should be hanged by their thongs.