Juggling

Well, if you just spent your time at home in front of the computer like a normal person you wouldn’t have all these problems – J

The man is right; life is starting to be complicated.
I’m juggling. It’s those date things.
Let’s take yesterday’s for instance, when I met a blonde from the internet. I’ll call her Date #3, because, people of blogland, I don’t tell you everything. So, we spent a day trawling round art galleries, drinking beer in Soho square with all the other summery queers, trawling around some more and when the rain started pouring ended up in the cinema. For the first hour she wouldn’t make eye contact, but displayed no sign of wanting to make her excuses and leave; still I couldn’t decide if she a) was finding me too fugly for word b) was just too shy and nervous to hold her own in a conversation c) had a problem with her eyes? As we were parting she blurted out ‘so do I get to see you again?’ and I had to smile. Should I agree to see again an arty, attractive but nervous girl who always keeps a bottle opener in her bag? I did. In fact I’m invited to her birthday party tomorrow.

Which is where things start to be muddled. What happens to Date #1 if I do bring the waterproof ponchos to tomorrow’s Date #3’s birthday picnic as I offered? Will I qualify as a shameless two-timer? What happens when Date #2 comes back from Italy and, full of hope and illusions, claims her slice of Quality time? How do I fit everyone in? Can I not just take what I like out of all three of them and create a fourth, perfect date, one that will make eye contact, like photography galleries, read books, speak with her hands, know how to cook, have a knowing smile and freckles, display glimpses of a sexy stomach and hold her own in a conversation, and carry a bottle opener in her bag?

Today, people of blogland, I shall do the gardening. Alone with the cat.