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The Ouchie Gets a Little Less Painful

Stunned, I got home and dialed a girlfriend.  I relayed the story.  “OMIGOD,” she reacted.  

“I know, I know!  Can you believe it?  I wouldn’t have asked him when he was going to call me if I wasn’t absolutely certain he was into me.  What a shocker.  I mean, I had the guy cracking up! What is up with that?  Thank God you’re home.”
“You know, I have no sympathy for you.  You’re always out, going out, having fun.  So it didn’t work out this time.  But I’m here at home alone on a Friday.  Yup, that’s right.  You went out on a date and I stayed at home.  No one to hang out with.  No guy to take me out to dinner.  At least he took you out to dinner and paid for it.  Nope, no one did that for me.  Fuck you.  No sympathy.”
“One day we’re going to look back on all these conversations and laugh.”
“We’ve been saying that for the past five fucking years.  It hasn’t happened yet.  We’re still not laughing.  Is this funny?  No, it’s not funny.  It sucks.  Alright, brunch tomorrow?”
“Sure, call me.  I’m taking an Ambien and conking myself out.  This is so depressing.  Let’s eat a scrumptious brunch tomorrow.  Call me.”

I think God felt bad.  So I woke up in the morning to a call I hadn’t heard because I was drugged up on the sleepy stuff.  
Not a Brian, but someone else I’ve been dating had called.  I called him as I tossed around in bed in the morning.
“Hey, what’s up.  I’m still in bed.”
“Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to have brunch.  I called you last night, but you didn’t pickup.”
“Well, I’m still in bed.”
“Oh, alright.  Ok, me too.  I’m just waking up myself, but I’m up.  Just working at the computer.”
“If you make me brunch, you can come over.  I’ve got eggs and bacon, but make sure you bring bread and pancakes.  I want pancakes with blueberries.  Don’t come over unless you have the goods.”
I went back to bed.  If he came over, he came over.  If he didn’t, well…more sleep to be had.
He came by and cooked brunch.  He probably didn’t know he made me feel like a new woman. He had all the different ranges going, stirring up the eggs, sauteing the french bread.  I just sat back and watched from the couch drinking my glass of grapefruit juice as he cooked for us.  
Someone likes me enough to come over and cook.  Thank God for the little things in life.

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11.09.08

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Welcome to my site, derived from an advice column I wrote while getting my MBA. I live in the San Francisco Bay Area. I give helpful, opinionated advice based on my own experience and from the expertise of my extensive network. For more, click here.

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