"At least you can entertain your blog readers with the fact that your presence obviously flusters me and turns me into a nervous idiot."

There's something refreshing about causing a woman to be flustered by my presence. There was a time in the not so distant past when I seemed inspire the opposite in the surrounding lesbian population. Believe me it's a nice change. The power dyke/diva/evil mastermind buried deep inside of me says yesssss . . . yesssss . . . cower before my presence . . .

Just kidding. Sort of.

But on the other hand how can anyone be flustered by me? I'm, like, one of the most down to earth, empathetic, rational people out there. If anything I thought I would inspire a sense of ease within the people I meet. When Ms. K and I met for lunch yesterday -- unfortunately squeezed in between work and other responsibilities -- it was the first time we had seen each other since she came home with me last week. I didn't initially read her as nervous, but realized later that she must have been so nervous that she accidentally sent me a text when she meant to send it to someone else.

"Call me when you leave the hospital so I can tell you how I am a fucking loser with no game."

Hospital? Was that slang for nut house? An oblique reference to my office? It took me a second to realize the text was not intended for me, long enough for her to realize her mistake.

"At least you can entertain your blog readers with the fact that your presence obviously flusters me and turns me into a nervous idiot."

For some reason that revelation was very endearing. I responded by reminding her that I was far too down to earth for her to be that nervous.

"You are, but I suppose it has something to do with the hot/sweet/smart thing you have going on. I'm not really sure why I can't stop acting like a moron."

Hot, sweet, and smart? I think I might be blushing.



Let me just take a moment to say I don't know which dating/sex god I managed to appease or if my good karma just suddenly kicked in with a vengeance, but I am beginning to realize that life ain't too bad for Ms. Post No Bills here. There have been numerous people lately who have shown an inkling of wanting to get up in my business. And I'm not opposed to whoring myself around a little bit if given the opportunity -- maybe that's why I didn't feel so guilty about inviting a lady friend back to my bedroom.

Ah, summer . . .