Pay No Attention To The Man In The Hound Dog Suit

Well, I really did attempt to meet my destiny tonight, but Jessica was not working. She'll be there Sunday, I think that's how the pattern works in the past. (No, I don't LIVE at the Walgreens, it's just the closest place for buying household items on the cheap, and its walking distance for a pedestrian like me). If I was overly self-indulgent last night, well, I don't know if I have apologies or not. I should, but at the same time, anyone could have hit click like they do when they find out they found Nancy Grace making mad, mad octopus love to Anderson Cooper on some crazy Twilight Zone channel. Swell, I might watch a FEW minutes before I clicked off, but that's just me. Gang, I'm just not this way every year, with the coming of warmer weather. I get away without thinking about any single particular female for years. Then out of nowhere, self-confidence visits and I start thinking what the hell. Bart at work tells me maybe I should look for women my own age, and, well, for one, I'd have to excavate some mummies and two, I have absolutely no understanding of how to do this. I NEVER run into single women my own age. Could it be my crazy John Locke look above that keeps some of my friends from setting up blind dates? Or when I'm at the Delta Lounge--cue the BARFLY music--and actually do strike up a conversation with someone born before the first moon walk? Back to my now-postponed meeting with destiny, I did take some time to talk with Erica, who works with Jessica quite often. Erica told me that J. sees a guy on and off, nothing serious, other than, say, he's not twice her age (that's me thinking aloud now). But Erica plans to help out by telling Jessica, until I see her again, about what a nice and cool guy I am, and how I once saved a street mugging using my martian hypno-breath and saved a busload of nuns by lifting them over a burning fence using only my eyebrows. Yea, that will certainly make Jessica think that I'm the catch of the century. What I had in hand, still have, in case I see her Sunday, is the Weekend section of the Sun-Times. I intend to lay it out simple, and tell her, if there is anything, ANYthing, in those pages that she wants to do, has always wanted to do, but some guy or her friends weren't into it (Navy Pier, Millennium Park, taking the el, with all the bacteria on the passengers, yea, like not driving a car means you suddenly end up in a scene from SOYLENT GREEN), that I would gladly accompany her to the event. A chick flick, sure. Some play at the Cadillac Palace that I'd spend a week's pay on, certainly. My plan just might work. If not, its back to what I normally do, write while I stare at my skull reflection and my odd collection of action figures just to the right of me, on my bookshelf. Again, thanks for commenting on my blog, each of you, instead of watching Nancy Grace doing that hentai thing on half the CNN staff. (The sequel's next summer...)