The people that live across the street might be drug dealers. Like breaking bad meth kinda stuff. It would explain so much. This couple always loses their dog, wandering around yelling her name. They are often standing in street getting in different cars for minutes at a time then hopping out. Then of course there was that bath salts guy outside their place using their hose, wearing no shirt and crying in the fetal position. He chased me like he wanted to eat my dog—-or my face. I guess I really need to stop spying on my neighbors. Every dog owner does this though. You spend at an hour a day taking your dog out, normally on the same route and you can’t help but look into people’s homes and imagine what goes on in there. Drug dealers, for sure.
Casual dating has just been taken to a whole new level. For the first time ever, I have agreed to go on a random date. Like one of those, “hey we met at the bar and you gave me your number and I waited 4 days to call because that’s classified as good game and do you want to go grab some dinner sometime this week?” Well, I rarely give my number out so I must have been somewhat intrigued last weekend. I wish I could remember exactly what he looked like. Anyways, this is how the phone call goes. I agree to meet him somewhere tonight, since I’m a control freak and like driving myself places. Then he says this,
“Just so you know, I plan on keeping this casual. Like, I’m not planning on dressing up or anything.” No way he just said that. Courtesy laugh masking my uncomfortability, I joked that I may wear sweatpants and may not even bathe. He seemed fine with it. I would never do that, but it’s weird that he’s cool with that. Real weird. But then again perhaps I’m weirder. I have asked 2 girlfriends to go to the same restaurant and evaluate. Figure if it goes poorly, I can make a bit out of it. I don’t think he knows anything about me or my job, which works in my favor. Hopefully he doesn’t read this before the meet up.
Oh yea, one last thing that is pretty throw. (Throw is apparently the new hip urban term meaning tight.) I was at the gym doing this equifit assessment where they basically put you through a ridiculous puke-worthy workout and then test your heart rate and body fat percentage and weight. Great. I have never been less fit than I am right now. Anyways, as I’m walking out of the gym I see someone that looks familiar. Roger Federer. How cool is that and what is he doing in this gym? I have no answers and I kept my hat down since I looked like a sweaty softball player. Perhaps I’ll go hang in the gym again today to see how an athlete trains. That’s some motivation right there.