VB man came back with more gifts today – this time a kilo of Danes coffee (nice) – and as he doesn’t own a coffee plunger I somehow ended up with him in my house on my sofa (still not sure how that happened), with me making him coffee while wearing my jammies. Happily I was not sporting the little red number but instead, the candy pink cats and my old lady sweater (less awkward, I’m sure you’ll agree).
I’m thinking that I’m a bit too nice to waifs and strays.
He was loaded. Man, I feel for the guy, he’d spent the day at work sporting a new haircut and his colleagues were giving him grief so I think he’d downed a few of his precious long necks to make himself feel better. I didn’t feel threatened or anxious with him there but as he relaxed he started swearing up a blue streak (when he could keep a grip on his train of thought)… and while honestly, I can drop the f-bomb in dire emergencies when it appears in every other phrase it’s a bit much for me.
All and all, while I’m not feeling too uncomfortable with him at the moment I am worried about the increasing frequency of his little visits… What to do girls and boys??

Looks like I’m right back in the flow of being true to this blog’s agenda…
There’s been precious little dating discussion since I gave up the G.O.D.S but after my ‘hot-date’ on Friday (below) and the unexpected gift I received this evening, looks like things are on the up.
[Excuse me one moment while I roll about on the floor laughing my butt off].
It’s like this, I was having a perfectly sensible online chat (ok, mostly sensible – there was some discussion about crushed velvet suits…) when a voice sung out as it approached my door. A bloke’s voice, and not Boaz’s from upstairs. Having been focused on the crushed velvet this ‘ahoy’ gave me quite a start, I might have let slip a bit of a swear word… I’m not sure (shhhh don’t tell).
Anyway.
It was my other upstairs neighbour (who shall be known as VB Man). He just dropped in to give me a beer (I KNOW) and not just a can or a stubbie… a dirty great longneck… (for translation see this page.) I was so shell shocked I couldn’t respond intelligently… (I KNOW). I nodded and smiled, took the proffered VB (I KNOW… not a Corona) thanked him and went back inside a bit befuddled.
I’m still befuddled.
I have a few questions for you Blogosphere… would it have been uncharitable to refuse? Apart from the fact it wasn’t a Corona… He got brave enough to make a move… shutting him down might have been a bit harsh, right?
More importantly, should I have foregone the crushed velvet discussion with ‘The OC’ and invited Panel to split the beer? I feel a bit guilty that I didn’t, though between crushed velvet and bootleg software/beer/broken windows (the other conversation topics I’ve been subject to with Panel and his brother) the crushed velvet was the winner on the day…
I was telling Gem in a later discussion that I’m so not hip to s*xual politics… in my usual circles beer would be the last thing on offer… right after bootleg software (the last gift offered by Panel’s brother) so I was pretty un-prepared… Mate, if Panel knew I was a card-carrying Bible babe much like Mary and Boaz (who never miss an opportunity to talk about it with believer and non-believer alike) he’d have had apoplexy… but after having his assistance fixing my window the other day, and now this unexpected gift… it’s getting interesting ’round here…

I think I have a Clayton’s* date on Sunday.
I say Clayton’s, because it really isn’t a date. It’s a business meeting with another web geek, one whom I’ve been in touch with since the insane week before Christmas (the week when I was trying to churn out a big job that I was underskilled for… (long story…)) anyway, we’ve spent a bit of time chatting on the phone, always work related, neither of us knowing anything about each other outside of how much we play with html, css, CMS etc…
Of course I suspect that there have been times when I talk too much and do the girly ‘give too much away’ thing. Not that I could name what I’ve said, I’m just fairly sure I shot my mouth off, I usually do. The reason I suspect this is that he sent me an invite to join a web-based single’s circle for the over 30’s that he’s set up (the things we geeks do for fun…). It isn’t a dating site, it isn’t a pick a mate from a list of profiles, it’s just a group of people who get together to hang out at occasional events..
Now, I didn’t know he was single, nor that he was in that age group. And I didn’t think he knew as much about me. So, while I’m all in favour of meeting new people and being part of an ‘invitation only’ group I was a little surprised to be offered the invite… And this, hot on the heels of my having decided to unsubscribe from my long standing account with my G.O.D.S (Godly Online Dating Service).
So, here we are, after a month or so between conversations and just this week I’ve both joined his single’s group and run a business idea past him which has necessitated meeting up to go over it in person. Easy enough to make the connection that it’s the combination of the two that makes the business meeting feel as though it has an ‘edge of date’ about it. Of course, if you add the fact that we’ve traded photos to make identification easier at our chosen rendezvous, the ‘edge of date’ gets a little more emphasis.
Though instead of a carrying a copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ bookmarked by a rose
I’ll be the one with the laptop.
*Any of my Kiwi and possibly Aussie readers will understand what I mean by a Clayton’s situation. There’s a full explanation of the phrase here. But if I say a Clayton’s date is ‘the date you’re having when you’re not having a date’ you’ll get the idea…