I met a boy-

Well, technically, he's a man. He is 33 and has a career, blah blah blah. We have been talking for roughly the past 3 weeks and things are too comfortable. So comfortable that I am uncomfortable. Regardless, the manner in which we crossed paths deserves recognition because I think it is hysterical.


It was a Mir & Sandra date-night; we decided to hit up Porta in Asbury Park. Sandra, as per usual, was breaking her own damn neck on the prowl for men. I was just sippin. Fast forward to last call; I am at the bar, Sandra is outside smoking a cigarette. She comes in, or I go out, its blurry... regardless, she wants to go back to this guy's place, and that is soooo not typical protocol. After much begging and bargaining I agree to go back for A beer... so we are back at dude's apartment, waiting for his friends to arrive with said beer. At this point, from my recollection, I am basically watching he and Sandra conversate, because I could care less about anything other than being within sprinting distance to the nearest exit.

Anyways, I had mentioned to this young man, Tim, that my friends and I were interested in moving to Asbury at some point, so he gave me his card to get in touch with him when we were ready to begin our apartment hunt. Now, at some point, the banter between Sandra and Tim took a turn for the worse; she had been pressing him for his monthly rent payments and he flipped a switch, feeling as though she was trying to feel him out for how much money he makes in a year [intuitive], and I begin frantically motioning for us to get the fuck out. As we are on our way out, Sandra cursing at Tim, Tim cursing at Sandra, I am in the middle, side-stepping in my 4 inch Michael Kohrs heels, Tim's business card in the air, motioning ,"I can still call you about the apartments, right? We're cool? You'll help us out?" And so it began... and now it proceeds.

I finally rang him, approximately 2 weeks later, and received voicemail: "Hi, this is Miriam. You kicked my friend out of your apartment two weeks ago, but you said I could call you and you'd help me find a spot in Asbury. Give me a call back, xxx-xxx-xxxx." He rings me back, hungover and in bed, he had completely forgotten about that incident until my voicemail, regarded as the "greatest voicemail ever." And so we have been bantering back and forth, and it has been fun. It has been a long time since I have had the pleasure of meeting an intelligent, funny man... and now I am just waiting for the shit to hit the fan. As it always does. 5-4-3-2...