So? The date?
My friend whisked Wee One away for an overnight stay at her house (with much wiggling of eyebrows and suggestive comments) and off we went.
We stopped at a coffee shop and had coffee, where we talked long enough to have to buy refills, before going off to the movies.
We kept it simple, I think, because both of us were kinda wondering if we'd actually click hanging out as opposed to chatting via the phone or IM.
Oh, the butterflies. I had TOTALLY forgotten how awesome the whole first date, hand holding experience was. We ended up sitting in the parking lot and talking for about 4 hours when he brought me back to my house (will this guy and I never run out of things to talk about? Seriously?) because I'm totally a chicken, and I was too scared to bring him inside, because I am so not putting out on the first date. I'm too gun shy for that.
Although you guys deserve honesty and I'd be a big fat liar if I said I wasn't tempted because, HELLO, it has been like a freaking year, ohmygod, come on.
Ok. Slut moment over.
There was much smooching at the end, though.
And, as an added bonus...
Word has gotten back to Ex, that, OMIGOD, I went on a date. Word is that he is green, oh so green. Evidently he wasn't expecting me to, like, ever date anyone again. I think it will be interesting to hear what he has to say next time I see him.
Is it wrong that I'm just a little bit gleeful that just maybe he's regretting his manwhore ways now that he sees that I'm actually, you know, OVER him?
And the best part? I really don't care. I feel a sort of vindictive satisfaction, yes, but honestly his feelings on the matter interest me in an offhand kinda way, sort of a "Oh, gee, wonder if I've seen this episode of Will and Grace before?" kinda way.
Ahhh...life is good.