Friday, May 24, 2002
Writing this on the Saturday… B— went to get his blood test yesterday. I was thinking about him all day and was so happy to see him when he wandered into the bar at 4 that I just threw my arms around him. He stayed as the Friday 5 à 7 rush built up, chatting to Dan. I felt really warm inside, seeing him sitting there at the bar, talking, relaxed, laughing.
We went out to eat at Ze Laziumm, just us two. Had a pitcher of Sangria. He loved the mariachi guy. What a weird job that is — going around Montreal's ten Mexican restaurants every Friday and Saturday night. Does he have a day job? If he does, why the hell does he spend his weekend evenings schlepping around for a few extra bucks?
As we staggered back B— stopped by a pickup truck and went, "Dodge Ram…good advice." I laughed so much I thought I'd pee my pants.
When we got home we made love. I love his hands. I don't want to jinx it, but this really seems to be going somewhere. I just wish I knew what he was all about — what this thing really is he's running from.
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posted by Sara