On Saturday, I managed to get absolutely nailed with a softball, producing (very quickly, I might add) a lovely purple bruise surrounding the imprint of the softball stitches on my leg. Duke Logan insisted on examining it up close. He called it sexy. I called him weird.
On Monday, I slid on a very hard surface into second base, scraping up my knee. Oh, war wounds, how I've missed you. My legs looked like I was 15 again. Duke Logan wasn't at the field, which is very odd, as he is a softball whore. (I am merely a slut, mind you.) I texted him to point out how shocking this was. He said he knew I would miss him. I told him he missed my slide. He asked if I was going for matching leg wounds. I told him that since he said it was sexy, that maybe this was the secret to meeting the man of my dreams, and maybe I would go to a bar that night? (I didn't, The Highlander came over. We had fun.) He said that was "totally hot."
On Thursday, he asked me if I was busy Sunday. I told him I was. He wanted to know if I was interested in going to the baseball game, which is funny, because I was thinking of asking him if he wanted to go, but The Highlander is taking me to a game on Saturday, and I don't have time to go to both.
Duke Logan is too old for me. He is most likely not interested in being my friend. I am most definitely "seeing" The Highlander. Had I not been busy this weekend, I would definitely have taken him up on his offer to go to the game. My question is: Would that be wrong?
Showing posts with label Duke Logan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Duke Logan. Show all posts
Friday, August 14, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
These are the Days of our Lives
Saturday. I had a miniature golf date with The Highlander in the evening, but first, a little softball. After a few hours of good, old-fashioned competition, I was nice and sweaty, and had a nice layer of dirt covering my body. Ahhh, satisfaction. Post softball, I generally head over to a nearby bar/restaurant to hang out with some of the guys (and occasionally girls).
On this particular Saturday, I hitched a ride with an incredibly good-looking former soap opera actor. (which should tell you how good-looking he is, they don't let ugly people anywhere near soap operas.) The soap opera actor (let's call him Duke Logan, shall we? That just sounds like someone who resides in Port Charles or Pine Valley...) and I have some chemistry. It's kind of obvious to everyone, including our Saturday umpire, who cracked a joke about a possible love connection during the game when I was yelling "No batta, no batta, no batta" when Duke came up to bat. He's ridiculously good-looking, drives a completely impractical sporty car (it doesn't even have a back seat!) and is "attracted to athletic women." (His words.) Perfect, right? EHHHHH! He's old. We were born in different decades, and not even adjacent ones. Damn.
Anyway, while at the bar, he was sitting between me and an older, more age-appropriate woman, who was definitely sizing me up as competition. It was getting a bit late, and I really needed to get home so I could shower for my date with the Highlander, but Duke Logan was also my ride home, and he didn't appear to be leaving soon. When I mentioned that I should get going, the Umpire said, "What, do you have a date or something?"
Unfortunately, every emotion or thought I ever have is written on my face for all the world to see. (Which is why I would be incapable of fuckwittage of the leading someone on variety, because everyone always knows exactly what I'm thinking.) This is a real disadvantage when guys I would rather not share my private life with ask me a point-blank question about it. Within seconds the entire table was grilling me on my date and plans for the evening, asking where we were going so they could come check up on us. Except Duke Logan, who turned his complete and undivided attention to the other woman.
While this was going on, the clock kept ticking, and it got later. I already had a voicemail from The Highlander wondering what time we were going out, so I excused myself and called him up. Duke was continuing to drink, and he was really digging the other woman, so I didn't really have much of a choice. I asked The Highlander to come pick me up. He didn't seem to mind at all (it was to his advantage, otherwise we weren't going anywhere together for awhile), but I did tell him that under no circumstances was he to enter the restaurant premises. He was to call me when he hit the street, and I would jump in his car. If he came in, I would never hear the end of it. He did, and I apologized for having dirt all over me. He told me it was cute. (Later, I told Scarlet I didn't know what to wear, and she pointed out that if he thinks I'm cute with dirt, does it really matter what I wear? Point taken.)
During Monday post-softball bar time, Duke did let me know that the other woman and he ended up hanging out that evening, and just as they were about to kiss, she blurted out that she had a boyfriend. He was pissed. And even if he is too old for me, I think he'll be a cool hang out guy (of the non-physical variety, of course.)
On this particular Saturday, I hitched a ride with an incredibly good-looking former soap opera actor. (which should tell you how good-looking he is, they don't let ugly people anywhere near soap operas.) The soap opera actor (let's call him Duke Logan, shall we? That just sounds like someone who resides in Port Charles or Pine Valley...) and I have some chemistry. It's kind of obvious to everyone, including our Saturday umpire, who cracked a joke about a possible love connection during the game when I was yelling "No batta, no batta, no batta" when Duke came up to bat. He's ridiculously good-looking, drives a completely impractical sporty car (it doesn't even have a back seat!) and is "attracted to athletic women." (His words.) Perfect, right? EHHHHH! He's old. We were born in different decades, and not even adjacent ones. Damn.
Anyway, while at the bar, he was sitting between me and an older, more age-appropriate woman, who was definitely sizing me up as competition. It was getting a bit late, and I really needed to get home so I could shower for my date with the Highlander, but Duke Logan was also my ride home, and he didn't appear to be leaving soon. When I mentioned that I should get going, the Umpire said, "What, do you have a date or something?"
Unfortunately, every emotion or thought I ever have is written on my face for all the world to see. (Which is why I would be incapable of fuckwittage of the leading someone on variety, because everyone always knows exactly what I'm thinking.) This is a real disadvantage when guys I would rather not share my private life with ask me a point-blank question about it. Within seconds the entire table was grilling me on my date and plans for the evening, asking where we were going so they could come check up on us. Except Duke Logan, who turned his complete and undivided attention to the other woman.
While this was going on, the clock kept ticking, and it got later. I already had a voicemail from The Highlander wondering what time we were going out, so I excused myself and called him up. Duke was continuing to drink, and he was really digging the other woman, so I didn't really have much of a choice. I asked The Highlander to come pick me up. He didn't seem to mind at all (it was to his advantage, otherwise we weren't going anywhere together for awhile), but I did tell him that under no circumstances was he to enter the restaurant premises. He was to call me when he hit the street, and I would jump in his car. If he came in, I would never hear the end of it. He did, and I apologized for having dirt all over me. He told me it was cute. (Later, I told Scarlet I didn't know what to wear, and she pointed out that if he thinks I'm cute with dirt, does it really matter what I wear? Point taken.)
During Monday post-softball bar time, Duke did let me know that the other woman and he ended up hanging out that evening, and just as they were about to kiss, she blurted out that she had a boyfriend. He was pissed. And even if he is too old for me, I think he'll be a cool hang out guy (of the non-physical variety, of course.)
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