The pseudo-date

No, he didn't murder me. Nor have we been rolling around in bed for the last few days. My blogosphere absence (sorry!) is totally unrelated to my pseudo-date with Teenage Heartthrob, who, by the way, I feel teeters uncomfortably close to the teenage end of the teenage heartthrob spectrum. All the power to Mrs. Robinson, but.....no.

I managed to bracket the "this is so wrong" feeling and to have a good time, even after he informed me that he hasn't yet chosen a major in university (the bottle of wine that we dutifully downed definitely helped in this regard).

I spent a good deal of the pseudo-date trying to figure out if it was more pseudo or more date. When I first showed up to the event and he asked me if I had come with anyone else, I thought "oh, not date." But when he started asking me about my hobbies in that weird, first-datey, getting-to-know-you-way ("So, what do you like to do in your spare time?" *cringe*), I figured it was a date. As we split and talked to other people in the group, I thought "not date" again. But when we split off, and sat under the full moon drinking a bottle of wine (straight from the bottle), and ended up in a kiddy park where he proceeded to give me a "twister" (it doesn't involve nipples, but it does involve a tire and a sickening spinning motion), I thought again, "ohh, definitely date." And I could've sworn that when he dropped me off at my doorstep he said, "okay, a kiss goodnight," but we ended up doing that awkward hug thing instead.

The next morning, I found something tied next to my bike, on my porch. What is this piece of twine doing tied to my railing? And then I remembered that he had asked me the night before if I had a piece of twine so we can tie our bikes together.

*ShitShitShitShitShit, I hope he's not into me! I want to keep shopping at my grocery store!*