Teachers pet

So what to say what to say.

it’s Friday, it’s beauuuutiful outside, my friend Sabrina is here.

last night we sat on my porch, drew pictures on people in magazines, drank some beers, ate some homemade guac and generally enjoyed each others company on a beautiful night in July. Yay friends!

Things are generally good today, the office is quiet, no one really feels like working. My boss is going on vacation next week, when the cats away and all.

Tomorrow is my favorite, the folk music festival in Welles Park. I once picked up a guy during the festival. Teach.

I had found the one shady spot, Welles Park is a big huge open field type of park and I was sleeping in the shade. I wake up and this young man starts chatting at me, making conversation, telling me I look cute sleeping in the shade.

Ears perk up. Cute? Me? Well yes of course I am.

So we start talking and he tells me he’s a teacher and a writer. That doesn’t sound bad to me as most men I know don’t even have jobs. He’s very smooth, not afraid of woman. Most men I know are scared to death of women.

So he asks me out, we meet in a bar a couple of days later and again, he’s smooth, smart, funny? Not so much, but cute and smart and working.

We hang out, he gets progressively more unfunny and pretentious. He tells me he finds me interesting but continues to prove over and over that he finds me uninteresting by not listening to a word I say. Then we do it, and it’s horrible and I leave once and for all. (Sorry James).

Teach.

Did I mention I hate my job?