I thought it was odd he hadn't called to wake me up, but these things happen. I texted him to see if he had his phone, or whatever - I mean, I couldn't pick him up if I didn't know where.
As I was leaving, it occurred to me to knock on his door.
So, anyway, after the zombie Timmie shuffled on some clothes and into my car, we started out - except Keri had suggested we carpool with koc_hex. And Timmie couldn't get in contact with him. But he thought Hex worked down here, and suggested food.
I don't turn down food. So we had soup and sandwiches at Panera, and waited until 5:00pm to hear from Hex. Around 5:15pm, he called to say he was driving south through Hayward.
I said something on the order of "fuck it," and we got on the 880 in mid rush hour.
Surprisingly, it only took an hour and a half to get over there. Of course, when we arrived, Keri was off dealing with her new landlady, and Amber and Zena were languishing on her bed. But we were there, so we started moving stuff into the van.
Eventually Hex arrived. I was worried whether he'd be able to find it or not, but it turns out he knew the house from quite some years past.
And most everything got moved.
There was some confusion about who was going to drive what, and I sort of dumped the van job on Timmie. I'm still feeling bad about that, since he wasn't all that conscious. But it had come down to him or me, and (1) he can't drive my car (just not good with a stick), and (2) I have trouble figuring out where the edges of my vehicle are. I'd kill someone with a van.
But we all made it. Even most of Keri's stuff made it.
Heading back, I absentmindedly didn't slow down for one of those speed hill things, and shook up the car pretty badly. Which then started to sound fairly awful. I think I may have dislodged the muffler. Dunno - it's in the shop right now. I seriously needed an oil change, anyway.
Not much else in terms of exciting adventures. We grabbed some groceries at Safeway, and had a very pleasant dinner of their soup and oyster crackers.
The one thing that for some reason still disturbs me a little was Zena and Keri agreeing that I was "Creepy, but in a good way." It's just, well...
I do understand that "creepy" is generally the word most women use for men interested in them that they aren't interested in. Most of them don't realize that's what they're saying, but that's pretty much it. A guy they think is attractive can behave in precisely the same way, and not get anything remotely like that label.
I just don't handle the other connotations that come with the word all that well. You know, like the whole skin crawling thing.
I don't mind being called a lech. I am. I like sex. I like looking at cute naked female bodies. I like talking about sex. I like joking about sex. And I don't mind being open about the fact - especially if I'm hanging around people like, oh, Keri and Zena, who seem to obsess about it a lot more than I do.
I realize that I'm just kind of bitter. And it's not like I'm not part of the problem. I'm not attracted to the women who find me attractive, and vice versa. I've been trying to shy away from the whole "crazier than you" bit, but I've at least been able to find a couple in that group that reciprocate.
I know I don't wear stylish clothes. I don't wear expensive shoes (I wear expensive sandals). I'm no longer what you'd call a great wage earner. And while I'm reasonably strong, and fairly healthy, I'm also 60 pounds overweight, and will never be "buff."
But I'm fairly good looking, smell good (I hope - at least I've gotten compliments...), hug well, and am smart, funny, dependable, caring, generous, honest, and emotionally available.
I'm also a fairly good kisser, and not too shabby in bed, but it's not like I get much opportunity to demonstrate those, lately.
In sum, I have the dubious honor of being what women say they want in a guy.
But I'm creepy.