No, seriously–it wasn’t. But if I weren’t me I wouldn’t believe me either.  I have a neighbor who I used to work with and he is, for lack of a better term, dreamy….~sigh~. Like all humans I am certain he has his pluses and minuses but the fun part of a crush is I don’t really know much about him.

So, I saw him cutting his grass and sent him a text (yes, I am *quite* subtle thank you very much) that initially said, “wow, you are damn pretty” but I had to change the pretty to good looking because he got offended when I called him pretty.  I noticed that he hadn’t replied in about an hour and sent him a follow-up which said something along the lines of, “uh…did you not enjoy my incredibly smooth come on?” because, again, I have NO moves. Seriously, none. I scare off more people with my direct approach than should be legally allowed. Needless to say, still no reply. About 3 hours later I realized if I wanted to eat anything I needed to go to the grocery store and with a sigh of grumpitude I heaved my butt off the bed and put on shoes. I felt incredibly proud of myself that I even remembered to grab the reusable bags! And then when I attempted to open my car door–it was locked. And there were my brightly colored keys glinting in the moonlight on the seat.  And then I blushed. No, no…I mean–B.L.U.S.H.E.D.

Now, you are thinking: but H!? that happens! people lock their keys in their cars once in a while. Yes, and that was the third time in the month of January. After the first time where we spent way too much time with wire and shims and luck breaking into my car I gave my one spare key to my neighbor figuring I would be hedging my bets. The second time I locked them in the car was in the KMart parking lot. Thankfully he just unlocked it and hid my keys and I didn’t have to face anyone. But now! after the ‘good looking’ ever-so-subtle text messages of earlier. Fuck. After gently banging my head into the roof of my car for a few minutes I began the walk to my neighbors while I made the dreaded phone call.

Serioulsy? would you believe I didn’t do that on purpose (okay, maybe *you readers* will because I let you in to read the whole story–but if you were the hot guy being flirted with would you not have thought–“whoa–desperate”; yeah–me too!)

So, after answering the phone and I explained the shameful situation and explained I was on my way he told me that he was out and that he wouldn’t be returning home tonight so he would swing by quickly. I was impressed hot guy went on overnight play dates–had I been more on my game and not fully flushed with embarrassment I would have asked to go along–but then he explained he had to go to his mothers. So, embarrassment saved some extra blushing there. (YAY!)

It was about then that he arrived and you are going to love this part, ready? I opened my mouth and explained I was sorry for the text messages earlier and that I really didn’t do this on purpose but I understand if he doesn’t believe me. He then replied, “you sent me text messages?” and immediately picked up his phone to read them.

DAMMIT! Busted. well-played, world–well-played indeed.

It this were a fair and just universe then I would have coerced him into the land of nookie; but alas he just sorta laughed at me with a serious glint–but by that point I was too far past embarrassed to care and laughed along as well.

Recently I learned that I am the opposite of his type: he likes short, thin, and dark complected whereas for those of you who don’t know I am tall, thick, and pasty. Oh well, it was worth a try; after all I have GOT to learn some moves. (seriously, I have no moves).