Okay, I'm home now.
At work, Park Police Man asked me, "Wanna make out?"
It came out of nowhere, and stunned the crap out of me. All that was going through my head was:
"That's so unprofessional!"
I think my silence offended him, 'cause he said I was taking entirely too long to answer the question. I know he was kidding, but still...
I hate being caught off guard.
And it's been so long since anyone kissed me. I mean, REALLY kissed me. With love, from the bottom of their soul. And it wouldn't have been him. So no, I'm not interested in making out with you.
Just for the sake of argument, allow me to reiterate that he and I will *never* be an item, a subject which we actually revisited tonight, which ended in the confirmation that he and I will just torment each other verbally until one of us either gets married or moves.
Man, he pushes my buttons!!!!
And you know something? He's not even all that cute anymore. He was cuter two years ago. I wonder what happened. Oh well. He still has nice arms though... but he has a baby gut now...
Now I just want to be kissed. For real, kissed. Have the wind knocked out of me, have my blood cells electrify... Why did he have to remind me what I was missing? Now I can't get the romantic notion of being held by a man & kissed... the Rhett Butler/Scarlet O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler way.