the rise and fall of neurologist number four (n#4)

it's not for lack of trying.

ok, maybe i didn't try so hard, but my blogmate put up a good fight.

it went like this:

i kinda thought i had a little bit of an in with n#4. not enough of an in to do anything about it myself, mind you, but enough that i felt the need to talk about it a whole heck of alot. with the clock ticking, my loyal blogmate absorbed the hint and took matters into her own hands. "game on," she said this afternoon, grinning ear to ear, having just invited him to join us for our collective sorrow-drowning at the local bowling-alley slash bar. then there was a scurry to find to some entourage which resulted only in the recruitment of mb, whose company i always enjoy, but whose presence only promised to create an inadvertent air of staged double date. i'll save for another day my experience with, and subsequent distaste for, double date traps.

my worry was all for naught, as it turned out, as n#4 didn't show.

game over.

not that the outing was a total loss.

we expanded my growing list of potential boyfriend deal-breakers to include non-tongue-in-cheek belief in supernatural phenomena, and crossed another guy off the list based on our (relatively unfounded) suspicion that he was a divorced hyperchristian, rather than an atheist computer programmer. it wasn't totally unfounded, actually. the wwjd bracelet and absence of wedding ring that i could have sworn was there the last time i saw him gave it away.

i also took advantage of my time at lucky strike to think about an unfortunately unstable girl at work who gets so stressed out that her hair actually falls out. maybe i'm a horrible person for repeating it, much less finding it funny, but she's such an antagonizing head case that it's nice to have confirmation that it's not my imagination... and that if my biggest problem is my inability to get n#4's attention maybe my life's not so bad.