Blondie

HW is out. Blondie is on deck.

I've been a pussy, I admit it. I should have broken it off with HW months ago, but a combination of laziness, procrastination and lack of balls kept me from doing it. But unlike wine, time doesn't do anything for festering relationships and the longer I waited, the harder it became to do the inevitable.

Then, riding home from work one day I met Blondie, and I had to sack-up and sever ties with HW.

I spotted Blondie walking down the sidewalk near my office one day this spring. She was tall, with long blond hair, killer legs, she is just a really pretty girl. I then saw her again a couple of days later, then once in a coffee shop, then nothing. Every day that I didn't see her I kicked myself in the ass for not introducing myself. It got to the point where I couldn't walk to my car or cross the street for a sandwich without looking for her. I've never been to a shrink, but I don't think it would be a stretch to say I have mild to moderate OCD.

Anyway, after not seeing her for a month I figured Blondie moved back to the place where obscenely beautiful Viking women live when not tormenting DC guys. I was bumbed, but life moves on. Then two weeks ago I was on my bike heading home from work and I spotted her crossing the street and heading right towards me. My light turned green so I called an audible and pulled the bike over (almost in front of her). She didn't even look at me, she kept walking, so I took off my helmet and said "Excuse me, but I see you around here all the time, and was wondering if I could buy you a cup of coffee sometime?". I'm not sure how or why I said that, it just came out of my mouth. She smiled and said "sure", and started to walk away. The whole scene couldn't have been more awkward. I was sitting on my bike in the crosswalk, she was slowly walking away, there were a few people from my office nearby and a homeless guy trying to get me to give him money. It was full-on AWKWARD. I said "What's your name?". She told me, I said "Nice to meet you, I'm...", and that was that.

So, why didn't I ask her for her number? Great fucking question and I have no idea. That's exactly what I asked myself, out loud, after I put my helmet on. Then it occurred to me that I didn't remember her name. I'd been stalking this chick for months, I finally meet her, and I forgot her name, what an asshole. She had just told it to me eight seconds earlier and I could only remember the first lettter. Jesus, I have the memory of a goldfish.

I fired up my bike and rode off, in complete disbelief of my inneptness. I had all the embarrassment of a ridiculously awkward encounter without the payoff of the digits. I half-expected one of those double-decker Brittish tour buses to run me over and complete the circle.

The only thing that kept me from jerking the bike into oncoming traffic on the ride home was the idea that, completely on accident, it was kind of cool that I didn't ask her for her number. Or at least I told myself that it was kind of cool because I didn't seem too anxious (just accept this and move on).

As luck would have it, I was walking to my car last Monday and saw Blondie on the other side of the street waiting to cross in my direction. I waited on my side of the street and kind of waived as she crossed. Long story short, we talked for a minute and I said I was on my way home, but got her number and asked if I could buy her dinner sometime, which she said would be nice.

I had a bit of a moral dilemma here, because I was now making plans to go out with someone else while I was still technically dating HW. After speaking with Blondie last Thursday, we made plans to meet out Saturday, so I only had a few days to break it off with HW before our date. Further complicating the matter was the fact that HW was leaving Saturday morning for a trip, and we already had plans for Friday night. In the end I wound up going out with HW Friday night and decided to break up with her when she got back from her trip.

Saturday I went sailing with Blondie. More to come on that.