Went to the Halloween parade today with the boy child and Dee-light and her kids. Totally had fun. The boy made a trick or treat bag and got a really good dragon painted on his forehead. The parade was super too, even though it was COLD. Kids got a ton of candy.
Also. I totally ran into the hot single dad today. I *thought* I saw him from a distance, but dismissed it. Then, as I’m standing there talking to Dee-light, I see this man like… bop his head from side to side around Devon. And, you know, it’s the Halloween parade, so people are invading your personal space all over the place to try to freak you out (this one Lurch-looking motherfucker, in particular, was kind of creeping me out), so I didn’t really think about it. Then I realize that it’s him.
And he looked super hot STILL. Dammit.
I greeted him, he gave me a giant hug. We exchanged a couple of good-to-see-yous. He walked away and I told Dee-light, “THAT… That was the hot single dad.”
“Oh my. He is cute, Madame Baconater .”
Ugh. I know. Ugh ugh ugh.
So, I was in line with the boy child, waiting to get his face painted. After we talked, he headed to the back of the line with his daughter and son in the stroller. We caught eyes a couple of times and it was like… Piercing. Hot. Palpable. He has such a devious little smile. Grrr. Bad boys are so very, very good.
Then I get a text. “Meet me at the bar up the street. Alone. lol” Which was funny because we both had our kids and really… I am a lot of things, but I’m not THAT spontaneous. Insert a few playful, flirty text messages back and forth and he’s asking me what I’m doing this week.
Oh damn. I mean… Of course I’m going to see him… The terms will be a little bit more defined now, I’m sure, but I want to see him. He was very happy to see me, lol.
Mercy, mercy, mercy.
What IS it about that man that is so alluring?
Oh… That’s right. He’s super hot, funny, interesting, smart, successful, rockin’ body, super fun and probably will always hold a seat in my top-three. Mercy.
Let’s not forget that he’s totally unavailable… Or at least WAS back in June. I’m not counting my chickens, but I would be lying if I didn’t hope that he had his shit together. When I ended things with him, I made it a point to tell him that when he’s ready to quit playing the field, he should call me.
And he kept my number this whole time… He hasn’t CALLED this whole time, but he still had my number. I’d say that’s *something*, right? Fuck.
What to do… What to do…