So I’m out in Park Slope this morning, killing time while my open house is going on, and I’m standing in front of a realtor’s window, looking at the listings, when I hear my name being called.
And I look, and it’s a guy that I dated about four years ago. There was a certain amount of dwama with him, given that he didn’t have a cell, but he didn’t want me to call him at home because his “roommate” might be jealous since she was interested in him, and he was on her lease and could get kicked out, but at the same time he wouldn’t call me from a non-blocked number, even though he knew that I don’t pick up restricted or unavailable calls.
I mean, he was a great guy, but all that business really bothered me. I did enjoy spending time with him (we even wound up in Greenwood Cemetery on one date, when we were out for a walk and just sort of ran into it and decided to go in. It’s actually a really cool place), but the one-way flow of communication was just annoying. So eventually I stopped trying to return his calls.
And I haven’t really thought about him much in all that time, but there he was. We chatted; he mentioned he’d gotten into the pre-med program he’d wanted to get into back then; he mentioned that one of his dogs had died of bloat; he showed me a photo (on his cell phone) of his visit to the riding stables in my neighborhood; he mentioned he’d just been thinking of me.
Which was great, and all, but for the life of me, I can’t remember his name.
Hello, Zuzu,
OT, kind of, but I followed your trail of breadcrumbs home from Lower Manhattanite’s in a Blogroll Amnesty Day sort of fit. I’m blogrolling you and would really appreciate a reciproll? Many thanks.