It's raining in New York!!!
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I went over to Midtown Comics for my small pull and got these:
Can't wait to read! I initiated a chat with an adorable British guy at the comic shop about Fables, but he didn't seem to want to chat too much. :/ Just then (around 2.15) I got a text from The Guy to meet up with him, so I paid for my loot and left.
I waited outside the theater where The Guy works to meet up for coffee. He's an usher at one of the popular musicals in NYC.
We walked over to this really cute bakery, Amy's Bread, to chat. It was then that he let me know that, because of intermissions between the afternoon and evening productions, he was free until 6 pm. Yikes.
I wanted to capture the rain, but instead all I got was a lot of sucky traffic.
I chickened out, guys. I didn't "lay down the law," as it were. Nor did I lead him on in any way, though! That coffee meeting could have happened with any one of my friends, so I'm good with that. It was only very slightly awkward, and I'm happy that he was still cute without my beer (well, vodka tonic) goggles. Still a little man, though.
I had a lovely English breakfast tea and a zucchini/carrot/apple/walnut muffin (which was DELICIOUS). He had a plain coffee with a plain danish. He informed me then that he is very traditional, and doesn't like when foods are "too ambitious" or "try to gild the lily" and be more than they are. Blueberry muffin? Good. Blueberry-lemon muffin? Going too far! ...What?
I talked at length about comics (because if you invite me to, I will talk about anything I know) and he offered little in the way of conversation. I didn't find an "in" to be clear about the way I felt about whatever situation we were in. In my mind, if things took any sort of romantic turn I would let him know how I felt, but it never did.
Once we'd finished our stuff, we went to this bar he frequents in the large gaps in his work schedule. There we had several beers and talked about sports (I don't care, he does), gaming (I care, he doesn't), pot smoking (I LOVE IT, he turns into a paranoid mess), and tattoos.
He says people who get tattoos are simply looking for people to pay attention to them, and that if you don't have a good body you basically have no right getting them because it draws attention to your "flaws." Hefty guys probably don't want stupid tattoos around their flabby biceps. Heavy women with love handles shouldn't get tattoos on their lower backs, because ew. But face tattoos? Those people are pretty rad. They're making a "real statement." WHAT?!
I very nearly launched into the community and artistic aspects of tattooed people, but he was so firm in this ridiculous and narrow-minded opinion that the point seemed moot. Instead, I mentioned the huge back piece I've been planning and sipped my beer.
Once six rolled around, we left (and he didn't tip the bartender!). I walked him back to work before getting the train. No sneaky kissy moves this time, only a half hug. And he said, "Thanks for hanging out with me" rather than...well, anything else. No plans were made to hang again, and definitely no plans for a "date."
Trust your drunk instincts. [Sometimes.]
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I saw this foolishness on the way home:
Also, this is what rain and humidity does to my hair:
Yeesh.
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I want ramen.
--------
I went over to Midtown Comics for my small pull and got these:
Can't wait to read! I initiated a chat with an adorable British guy at the comic shop about Fables, but he didn't seem to want to chat too much. :/ Just then (around 2.15) I got a text from The Guy to meet up with him, so I paid for my loot and left.
I waited outside the theater where The Guy works to meet up for coffee. He's an usher at one of the popular musicals in NYC.
We walked over to this really cute bakery, Amy's Bread, to chat. It was then that he let me know that, because of intermissions between the afternoon and evening productions, he was free until 6 pm. Yikes.
I wanted to capture the rain, but instead all I got was a lot of sucky traffic.
I chickened out, guys. I didn't "lay down the law," as it were. Nor did I lead him on in any way, though! That coffee meeting could have happened with any one of my friends, so I'm good with that. It was only very slightly awkward, and I'm happy that he was still cute without my beer (well, vodka tonic) goggles. Still a little man, though.
I had a lovely English breakfast tea and a zucchini/carrot/apple/walnut muffin (which was DELICIOUS). He had a plain coffee with a plain danish. He informed me then that he is very traditional, and doesn't like when foods are "too ambitious" or "try to gild the lily" and be more than they are. Blueberry muffin? Good. Blueberry-lemon muffin? Going too far! ...What?
I talked at length about comics (because if you invite me to, I will talk about anything I know) and he offered little in the way of conversation. I didn't find an "in" to be clear about the way I felt about whatever situation we were in. In my mind, if things took any sort of romantic turn I would let him know how I felt, but it never did.
Once we'd finished our stuff, we went to this bar he frequents in the large gaps in his work schedule. There we had several beers and talked about sports (I don't care, he does), gaming (I care, he doesn't), pot smoking (I LOVE IT, he turns into a paranoid mess), and tattoos.
He says people who get tattoos are simply looking for people to pay attention to them, and that if you don't have a good body you basically have no right getting them because it draws attention to your "flaws." Hefty guys probably don't want stupid tattoos around their flabby biceps. Heavy women with love handles shouldn't get tattoos on their lower backs, because ew. But face tattoos? Those people are pretty rad. They're making a "real statement." WHAT?!
I very nearly launched into the community and artistic aspects of tattooed people, but he was so firm in this ridiculous and narrow-minded opinion that the point seemed moot. Instead, I mentioned the huge back piece I've been planning and sipped my beer.
Once six rolled around, we left (and he didn't tip the bartender!). I walked him back to work before getting the train. No sneaky kissy moves this time, only a half hug. And he said, "Thanks for hanging out with me" rather than...well, anything else. No plans were made to hang again, and definitely no plans for a "date."
Trust your drunk instincts. [Sometimes.]
--------
I saw this foolishness on the way home:
Also, this is what rain and humidity does to my hair:
Yeesh.
--------
I want ramen.
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What did you think after reading Chew???