Hearts In My Lattes.

This gal is making it a point to go out more... I went salsa dancing last night and didn't do too bad. It was a bit difficult with my boundary issues, assuming everyone who salsa dances is poor doesn't help, either. Poor people make me itch and when money is tight on my end, being inside of me is very uncomfortable... for me, not anyone else, because my boundary issues have made it nearly impossible for me to have anyone on top of me. There is a price to pay to ride this pussy train and it can't be paid in monetary form, not even tokens... it has to be "love".

Let's just say I have lied to myself on more than one occasion (I love fucking!), but despite my faults, I still feel disheartened when it turns out the person on top of me doesn't care about me... which is why I sleep with him one last time, because he needs to know what good feels like and I need to know what love doesn't feel like... that and who knows when I will have sex again?! It's been almost two weeks now and the bonding affects are wearing off from the last person I will probably never talk to again.

I am at a coffee shop where I have had a bit of a flirtation with a fellow I am sure has a drinking problem (he's so dreamy). However, today he was sitting outside (off-duty) and inside was an even HUNKIER bag of tall dark and handsome. There is one similarity: they both leave hearts in my lattes- HEARTS! I don't know where you come from, but where I come from (3rd grade), that is a BIG deal. The only question is: do they want marriage and stuff? How do I present this question?

Ideas:

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you love me... is there anybody else here you love too?"

[Pointing to latte] "So you love me, that's a lot more than my parents did... do you want to be a parent?"

"If this is going to work, you are going to have to have more ambitions than working here... what's your 5 year plan?"

END

If I decide to take the direct approach, I will use one of those three examples. If I decide to be passive (always a GREAT idea), I could just stand at the counter all day as women come up and order lattes and watch the tops of their drinks. If I see a fucking heart on a drink other than mine... there are a couple of options:

1)
HIM: [handing over latte hearts]
ME: [sighing loudly] Oh yeah, like that will work! If that's what you want buddy, go for it...

2)
HIM: [handing over latte hearts]
ME: [slamming fist] Are you fucking crazy?! There is no way you're getting out of that without an STD... wait, do you have an STD?

3)
HIM: [handing over latte hearts]
ME: [gently looking into his eyes] You are going to mature emotionally, someday and when you do, you will look back at me, at us; you will remember how great I was, how I challenged you and loved you. You will regret throwing it away on this vapid, emaciated girl with herpes. I'm going to go honor myself now.

END

Until I figure out the exact approach I am to take with my future husband(s), I will continue turning down poor people on the bus. My friend and I were dressed up for salsa dancing last night. We were sitting on the back of the bus, minding our own- beautiful business, when two meaty men sat in front of us with a pizza and a 2-liter of generic orange soda. They made no effort to show discretion as they blatantly stared at my breasts, gyrating to the rhythm of poorly maintained roads. It was so uncomfortable, I tried to deter them by tucking my chin, crossing my eyes and loudly saying "I have to go poo poo!". Let's just say if they showed that much determination in school, they wouldn't be so poor right now! I will continue to avoid low-cut shirts as much as possible.

FOR REALS, END.