Ray, a drop of golden sun

For my date with Ray, the electrician, I decided to dress up…so far I’ve stuck to jeans every date. This time, I just felt like wearing high heels and a dress. And surprisingly the one time I dress up ends up being the first time the guy lets me pay!

I didn’t feel much spark, but the conversation was nice. I managed to avert almost every personal question and was incredibly pleased with myself for this. I am so over self-disclosure. So we talked about his education. We talked about conspiracy theories. We talked about animal psychology.

My eyes were getting tired and the room started spinning a little. I looked around me. I reveled in the silence.

I commented on the beauty of the walls.

The next day I received a series of text messages from Ray. Ray told me that he wasn’t attracted to me, but thought maybe the attraction could grow.

Then when I didn’t respond for an hour he said I was fake and there was a reason why I was single. He said he wished I smoked weed. He said a bunch of other things in this text blast, most of them were mean things you shouldn’t say to people you just met.

Today I had a really good day. I made the decision I’m not going to go on any more dates. I finished a book, I relished in nature and hummed “weeping pilgrim” by the river while a huge boat passed by.

I brought some clothing over to Ivetta’s house for a clothing exchange. No one showed up but me, so we drank Russian wine and ate lentils.

The door opened and in walked Rajeev. The Indian Man. “Oh my American beauty!” he said.  “My Indian Uncle!” I exclaimed and gave him a hug. He had a plastic pitcher of homemade Sangria in his hand. “I don’t know why I was so foolish to bring this in the car, but fortunately it didn’t spill.”

“Mikaela, get the ice cubes out of the freezer!” He began his orders and Ivetta and I both looked at each other and laughed. “Yes, Uncle.”

Ivetta compiled strawberry cakes for us and ushered Rajeev to sit on the couch and watch an episode of How I met Your Mother with us.

“I came over here to drink Sangria and gossip and this is what I see. You two eating girly strawberry cakes on the couch and watching sitcoms. No, I will not watch it.”

Ivetta softly insisted that he sit on the couch and eat his strawberry cake and watch. She was calm and he relented. 🙂

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