A few months back I met a blogger. Not an online meet where we read each others diaries. A real meet up, where we got to see and smell and touch each other. Ok. So we didn’t touch each other the first time, but we do now. And not in that way.
Anyhoo, the first time we met I told him which approximate area I lived in. You know, you don’t want to tell them too much in case they turn out to be type of person who makes you glad you don’t have pet bunnies. And he told me that he had friends who lived in a penthouse apartment on my street. I laughed and said something along the lines of ‘it wouldn’t be my apartment block, it’s too small.’
Recently we met up again for dinner, coffee and a movie. After a nice dinner and a chat about his penis over coffee, we went to see Iron Man. Fantastic movie. Some serious hotness right there, with a sense of humour too. Noice. But it was quite a long movie and by the time it got out it was a tad late to be walking the streets by myself. So I begged a lift home. And as I directed him the the Xth building on the right in my street he laughed. Turns out that yes, his friend does live the floor up from me, in my tiny apartment block.
I so could add a cliche right here.