This morning I received a text message from my friend The Joker announcing that he's seeing someone. And, as it so happens, that someone is not me. He declares that he loves spending time with and talking to me and would love to continue doing just that, but he wanted to be honest and upfront about the situation.
So. There's that.
I'm definitely bummed, but I completely respect him for just telling me. He didn't owe me that, and he wasn't obligated to give an explanation. I applaud him for being a truly good guy. Now on to the next!
On deck? The Pilot. A sweet, handsome, Southern gentleman a couple of years older than me who went to Auburn and flies corporate jets for a living. We've done coffee and lunch and tonight is the natural next step... dinner. Cheesecake Factory. I'm pretty excited. I was also pretty excited when he asked me to fly with him on a private jet he was piloting to New York on Sunday, but alas, snow and wind made me nervous, and I declined. I felt like I'd turned down an opportunity to star in my very own Bachelor episode, so hopefully he'll bring a rose tonight to get me back in the game.
In other news, I hate roses.