Chicken Wings, Part Deux

In response to all those who can possibly give a schit about my love life, here is the update, as it were.

I actually had a good time the other night with Mr. Nice Guy. But that's where it ends. I am a firm believer in chemistry and basically he flunked that class. The experiment flopped. I think I gave it the old college try when I first met him and heard a voice in my head say: "You know, he IS the kind of guy you should be dating. Stable. Conservative in appearance. Polite. *deep breath* Oh all right, here's my number." And I tried. I honestly tried. I had two official dates with the guy since August and I just couldn't get my engine revved-up. Maybe it was my alternator? Starter? Oh hell - he just doesn't blow my skirt up - figuratively or literally.

So, no I didn't use the "going to the ladies' room to smoke some crack" line Tuesday night. At best I did excuse myself to the loo and gave myself a pep talk in the mirror, only to return to the table and put on my charming self. I so totally give up.

Fast forward to today - the last day of the month is my busiest business-wise. Mr. Nice Guy calls right in the middle of me trying to get a day's worth of last day business done in 1/2 a day so I could get the F outta there and practically sled home on the icy streets of Dallas. (oh yeah - Texas ice storm!) Anyway - before he could even finish saying "hi" I cut him off and said "Can't talk now. Sorry." I hung up and my boss came flying out of his office and scolded me. WTF? Yup, he scolded me for not just doing it right then and there.

"But, but, but you and Greg would be listening!"

"Mel, we know the story. Do you want me to break up with him for you?"

(GOLIGHTLY, I APPARENTLY HAVE MY OWN VERSION OF KATE!)

Holding back the giggles, I hung my head in shame and vowed to handle this tomorrow. Vowed. It's bad enough to have a friend break up with a guy for you, but to have your boss do it? Pity the fool.

SOOOOO - tomorrow, Friday, will be the day. I've got the day off and my to-do list has "cut the guy loose" at the top. No alcohol allowed. Not even an Advil.

Let me say right here: you readers are fantabuloso. What a sense of sorority. And I wasn't even in a sorority. Unless you count the fact that I went to a woman's college with only 700 women....so it was one big sorority, sorta. Oh well, you know what I mean. *getting verklempt*

Now - it's time for Grey's so the earth must stop rotating for an hour. Will be back with the coolest of the coolest posting ever. Promise.

*turing on telly and settling in with CruiserDog* Shhhhhhhhhh.