Last night, I was working from the sofa and LP, my impossible to categorize love, texted me.
I’d sent him a message earlier, with a request I never make: ” I’d like to get on your calendar some time over the next 7 days. When can you fit me me in?”
It took two hours for him to respond, which was more than enough time for me to get my nose out of joint and compose many unsent tweets.
When he finally did, it was a check in that was a little strange about work and the weather and became a discussion about restaurants where I was trying to figure out if he was trying to ask me to dinner or help him pick a restaurant for a dinner:
LP:”What do you think of [$40/entree restaurant] as a restaurant? Any good?”