I’ve been kinda sorta seeing a sailor boy named Marc for a little while now (the aforementioned guy with the dildo toting friend, who as it turns out, is actually quite comical).
For the most part, I’ve been having a really good time with Marc. Yet, all of our rendez-vous have been menage a trois with boozeronies. So the question remains - how much of our ’good time’ is induced by the alky and how much is genuine? I’m still on the fence, but can't quite manage to get on the wagon.
He is incredibly sexy and awesomely sarcastic, but he appears to have some border-line controlling/dishonest tendencies. And my trusty sidekick, Feminine Intuition, has him pegged for a bit of a man whore (it is entirely possible that mountains are being made out of mole hills here though).
We also have basically zilch in common, except that we both kind of like the movie, Fight Club, and the show, The Office - but then again, who doesn’t like those things!? They - are - AWESOME!
It’s like in that song, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, by Deep Blue Something…
“And I said, ‘What about [Fight Club and The Office]?’ She said, ‘I think I remember the film [and T.V. show]. And as I recall, I think, we both kind of liked [them]. And I said, ‘Well [those are the two things] we’ve got.’”
Plus, did I mention that he’s really sexy? And he has nice hair! And is tall! - Damn it.
I am fully hot and cold about the situation. Superego says, “He’s just in it for the throw down. So get out now in case you get hurt.” Which admittedly is something to think about.
But on the other hand, Id also makes a very compelling argument, “He is WICKED sexy! Plus, you have fun with him, so don’t be a weenie. Stay put and stop letting history repeat itself.”
So, how ‘bout them Yankees?
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