About last night... I finally understand what it must have been like for all those fools I dated in the past to look me in the eye and say let's just be friends. I had plans to hang out with Emile last night after his shift ended around 11:30. I had it in mind to check out the new restaurant that replaced the $8.95 buffet at Sherbrooke & St-Denis but Emile wanted me to go to his place for a bit. I said fine as long as there's no monkey business. Talk about lost in translation.
Emile's apartment is a studio pequeno. I'd say it's about 200-300 square feet at best. There was only one light that came through the kitchen. I could tell this was the flat of a man who just doesn't give a blank about his living arrangements. I think my favourite part was the Rainbow Brite sheet that covered his futon. That's right, you read correctly.
The man with a plan made some food and shared it with me. We watched a bit of an old Bond flick on TVA then he showed me some pictures of his travels. While I was looking at these photos, a feeling of sheer ickyness washed over me. I knew I was not attracted to this guy in any semblance of fashion. Sigh. Plus all the pics were of him standing in front of somewhere important. I told Emile that when I travel, it's very rare you find me in the shot because I don't like taking pictures. Let's move on.
We're sitting on the couch and Emile does the old stretched-arm-around-the-shoulder routine (very Degrassi, I might add) then BAM! He moves in for the kill. It took me a bit by surprise then I told him to stop. He asked me what was wrong and somehow I told him in English & busted French that I was just not that into him and I would like us to remain friends.
His response? Emile then asks to see my ass. I said absolutely not. Then he asked to see my knee surgery scars. I said fine and he got an eyeful of cellulite. He was kind enough to walk me home and I made sure he understood where I stand. I think he got it... I think. The one thing that really bothers me about Emile is his height. I am a bona-fide heightist! Ever since Matthew I cannot for the life of me date a guy who's my height. I remember my fling with Kieran last time I went to England... he went to find himself on top of a mountain. And yes, he too was short.
So this is what it's like to be on the other side. I've always been on the receiving end of the F-bomb but finally I got a chance to experience it for myself. I feel okay about it because at the end of the day, I refuse to settle. Still, I believe Emile is in my life for a reason, even if it's just to be a friend. All the same, my one is out there. I'll find him one day.
p.s. I lost 1.5" last week! I own this!