Wordsmoker

Since it became Wordsmoker‘s mission late last week to get Miss Peacock a date, I felt that I owed everyone a run-down of my Halloween evening.

The evening started out well, my breasts tucked away nicely (though not TOO nicely) inside my blouse, a clanging, gypsy-like necklace hanging around my neck. The Certain Someone had not yet arrived, so I mingled with friends and ate copious amounts of candy corn while swilling a girly Smirnoff Ice (Passion Fruit flavor) from the 6-pack I had so thoughtfully brought with me. I was mentally keeping a certain Chillbear Latrigue‘s advice in the back of my head, particularly this sage piece of advice:

“Do not allow this guy to monopolize your time. You didn’t go there with him. No more than an hour of your time. That’s a total. Three twenty minute chats is an hour.”

(Seriously, this is good stuff!)

Certain Someone arrived about twenty minutes after I did. He was not wearing a costume. In fact, he was the ONLY person who was not wearing a costume. I immediately thought this was extremely lame, it being Halloween and all. Everyone ragged him about this and he said that he “doesn’t do” costumes, whatever that means. (I think it means he has a stick up his ass.) He came up to me and we spoke briefly before I fluttered away to talk to other people. We spoke here and there throughout the evening and I began joking around with him, which he seemed to enjoy.

And then it came. The moment.

We were all sitting around the living room, drinking and watching the World Series, when I mentioned my upcoming Thanksgiving New England road trip with my very best friend E, who lives in Manhattan. Certain Someone asked if it was just going to be E and I when I responded that no, E’s boyfriend was coming as well. I began to list the other people who were coming, but Certain Someone LITERALLY leaped from the couch in shock.

“Oh, Miss Peacock, NO! His boyfriend? OH, MISS PEACOCK!”

He was shocked. So fucking shocked. I immediately grew angry: “What’s wrong with that?”

“OH, MISS PEACOCK, NO!!”

I felt my face screw itself into a look of absolute disgust. I shook my head silently and rolled my eyes and just let it go. I let *him* go. I could never, ever date someone who is so horrified by the thought of my best friend dating or being in love with another man. I could never date someone who actually rose from a couch in pure shock at the thought of a homosexual relationship.

So, the evening ended on a bit of a down note.

And yet.

And yet I HAVE A DATE WEDNESDAY! Yes, yes indeed. The very sweet SFBirdie suggested that I join OK Cupid, so I did late last week. Several long emails later, I have a dinner date on Wednesday with a rather nice young man. Maybe it will work out, maybe it won’t, but it feels damn good (DAMN, DAMN, DAMN good!) to have my very first date since I broke up with Mr. Long-Term Boyfriend Asswipe back in February.

LET’S ALL RAISE A GLASS TO A NEW HOPE! (Cue Star Wars jokes.)