Sanctuary

I am trapped at a coffee house on a Friday night, thanks to my locking my keys in the car out front. Luckily they have internet access so I can kill time writing here.

I had stopped at a restaurant across the street after work. I walked in and found my ex-husband there and, with no other excuse to avoid him, killed some time together. Fortunately we have a child in common and that filled the time. Still, not what I wanted to deal with.

Last night I went out out with Spaceman after completing a phototgraphy project at work. As we walked towards our cars at the end of the evening, he regaled me again at how busy he was, and how his place was a wreck and how he could not possibly invite me back to his place. "It's awful but I guess you can come back to my place if you want."

"Eactly how little self esteem do you think I have that I'd take you up on that?" I said as I turned on my heel. As I walked away I thought I felt him tug on my jacket to stop me (but I was mistaken).

The next day, just to be sure I was playing my role in my dysfunctional fucked up un-relationship, I invited PAL over to dinner tonight hoping to have an adult discussion about things. He actually said "I think I have something else to do tonight but I don't remember what." So I prompted him, "quick, think up something!"

Ater which, when I got into work I was walking around in the jacket I was wearing last night when someone pointed out that there was a lift ticket stuck to my back. Spaceman had stuck it on my back as I walked away from him the night before. I realized the furtive tug was nothing of the kind.

He called today to ask me out to lunch to make up for the night before, at which point I told him the ticket thing wasn't funny, that it was a childish thing to do. "I can't help it - I'm a 12 year old," was his excuse. Not one to turn away a free lunch, I took it but it really was just a chance to look at the photos from last night. I let him pay, fucker.

I hate them both, honestly.

I'm going to a concert tomorrow night with new blog reader Amy and she has invited along a single male friend - she insists she isn't setting us up but at the very least he sounds interesting. I can do no worse.

So this coffee house I am stuck in - now waiting 90 minutes for a tow truck - has a journal that people are invited to write in. All sorts of information in there and some surprising confessions. I was going to write but realized I could buy computer time for $5.

But the reading was compelling. One person confessed she was cheating on her husband. Another said he was moving out of town. Who would think a coffee shop could provide such sanctuary on a chilly fall evening?