Where the Hell is My Phone Call?!

**CAUTION: The following is a drunken rant regarding Neko's distaste for having relations with the opposite sex. If you're rolling your eyes already, don't bother reading any further.**

Rrrrrr! I hate guys! It's always the same old story.

A few weeks ago, I had a brief conversation with a guy in the coffee shop. Very brief.

The next week, same guy approached me as I was knitting with my friends and introduced himself.

Following week, guy sat next to me (same coffee shop) and we had an interesting little chat. After which, I went out for drinks with him and followed him home. Dispite being upset at the moment, I will admit that the sex was amazing. I mean, eyes rolling back in my head, effing fan-freakin'-tastic. I called in sick the following morning and proceeded to spend the rest of that day screwing his brains out. In between the fantastic animal love fest, we had equally great conversation and went out for lunch. I told him to call me and we set a tentative date for this upcoming Friday. Guess who thought she felt something "click"?

Tomorrow will mark one week's time since that lovely evening. Have I recieved a phone call? One god-damned ring of my phone? No. Of course not. A wise woman would tell me not to give up the goods on the first date and somehow it's my fault there's no phone call. Fuck her. This is what I hate about dating men. It's always the same story. They're more than happy to take you home and pile drive you, but when it comes to the follow-up, there's a gaping void of NO PHONE CALLS! This guy did send me a MySpace message, mentioning that he might be at the same coffee shop tomorrow. If he's expecting a warm welcome, he's very much mistaken. Fucker. I suppose he's not terribly interested in moi then. It's too bad I got my hopes up.

So guys, sorry but I'm switching teams - effective immediately.

((grumble, grumble, grumble))