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2019-10-16 - 7:41 p.m.

No Brie, No Way, No How. And I'm annoyed you would ever attempt it.

So there's this dude.

He's a really nice guy, and I like him. But I don't like-like him. And I've made it very clear. The problem is, I'm a nice person, and I refuse to treat people like a reject like some females will do in this situation. So though I have been clear, my continued kindness has him apparently holding on to hope. He hasn't said it, but his manner and his words are abundantly clear. Like Lloyd Christmas..."So you're sayin' there's a chance."

THERE. IS. NO. CHANCE.

I sing one night a week at a musical jam in town. It's my one social outlet and my very favorite thing to do. This is where I met this guy. He is a very talented guitarist, who has played with many bands and who has even played with folks who are famous. He was singing a song I like about four weeks back, and I began to harmonize with him. That was all she wrote. Since then he has been trying to talk me into meeting with him to work out songs to perform at the jam and further, he's been urging me to become his "musical partner" and start performing around town for money. He's been sending me links to songs that I have learned and in the past couple weeks, thanks to him, I've been able to break out of my regular repertoire and sing some really great stuff that I have VERY much enjoyed. The problem is that as the music has gotten better and better, he has been inching closer and closer.

He asked for my number after that first encounter singing together and I gave it, because many of the other performers have traded numbers with me, too, so that we can keep up with info about other jams, who is playing where, when we're gathering , etc. I wasn't concerned about having given him my number at all...until the songs links began to become other things; texts and conversations about this and that. Also not really a big deal... until he started flirting.

This guy is much, much older than me, and he oughta know better. Besides that, I am not looking for romance. When it became clear he was flirting, talking about how I was "hiding" and needed to "get back on the horse" and how he "kinda liked me"...I told him as much. I said that I wanted to be his friend and enjoyed making music with him, but that I did NOT want it to get weird...and that it was sliding down the slippery slope of weird, and that if our texting/musical involvement was giving him the wrong idea then maybe we should stop. He said he's not trying to be "like that" but he TOTALLY is.

So...it seems sometime after this past jam session, he got angry. I am assuming he is angry, anyway. I suppose I could be wrong...but he is not texting (which is good because it was getting to be every night and I did not want that). His anger coincides with my own, because I'm annoyed that he's made the music thing weird. Despite the warnings, weird it is.

WTH?

There are other things about him that I'm not mentioning because frankly, they're mean...but suffice to say, physically, he is not my cup of tea. At all.

OK, frack it, I'm saying it. This is a private diary.

He is dentally challenged. Has all his teeth, and he doesn't stink (as far as I know) but the hygiene going on there is NOT GOOD as I can SEE the cheese between his bottom teeth when he talks. I can SEE IT. It is visible and copious. WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. HELL?? Dealbreaker!!! DEALBREAKER!! There is no deal, but if there WERE a deal, THAT would be a dealbreaker! I'm a germaphobe and he knows it. How could he ever think he could be a candidate to get anywhere NEAR my person with all that brie in his grill?? HOW???? Is he THAT un-self-aware? Apparently he is.

Also...he has dandruff. I didn't notice this right away, but we stood in the sun last time I saw him and it's a skin-blizzard going on. It's 3" drifts in F-Town. His shoulders could pass for beignets. Upon realizing this, I wanted to hurl, dash, and confront him for his insanity all at once. But mostly hurl.

And...he musty!! I caught a waft of him this last weekend and he smelled like a box of second hand clothing that's been in storage for thirty years.

And he's a head shorter than me...AND, HE'S OLD! I asked him how old he was and he wouldn't tell. So I dug. And knowing some of his info, I knew I had the right guy. Dude is 68 freaking years old.

Even if he were tall, clean, and handsome, I got widowed by a (seemingly) perfectly healthy 48 year old man...why in the name of ALL THAT IS HOLY would I involve myself with a man who is almost certainly, based on averages, gonna be invalid or worse within 10 years?

I have no idea what makes him think that he could have gotten something more than musical friendship going with me, and to know he is annoyed that it isn't happening makes ME annoyed. I want to run all this by him and say, "REALLY? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?"

Which actually just showcases the fact that I am a huge egotistical asshole. But whatever.

I have GOT to learn to play guitar for myself.


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