Last night Bachelor #1 and I saw Spike Lee’s latest, his first mega-budget film, the thriller Inside Man. He got Jodie Foster to swagger and teeter on these 6 inch spiked heels like a circus perfomer. Her performance alone is worth seeing the film, all cocky and confident. While the lights were still up, #1 announced that he likes to hold hands during the movie. My palms immediately started sweating. I tried everything to keep them occupied, scratching this and that, tucking my shirt in, tying my shoes, putting my hand under my arm like I was cold. To no avail, as soon as the lights went out he snatched my hand from under my seat and smushed it into his big hairy paw. I was able to focus on the film, because it was so gripping and well-made. But I was still sweating, as I do when my anxiety level rises. I figured out a way to switch hands and let one dry off, while creating a little air pocket between my hand and his to let the air circulate between the held hands. The lights came on and I quickly withdrew my hand to point out something in the credits, I think about the “clapper loader.” We had a nice dinner and a nice chat, and thankfully I was the one in the driver seat and the one to say, “Thanks, not tonight” when he asked if I wanted to come up. The thing is, I had already given him the “I’d like to just be your friend” shpiel, and next thing he’s holding my hand, asking me up to his condo… I suppose I need to be even clearer, like, “Just being your friend means not holding hands or having intimate relations.”
Earlier, I had coffee with KrispyBear, who should be called “CreamyBear” because he’s such a smooth and easy fellow. Bloke. He says these very English things like “Brilliant, aaaabsolutely brilliant” which I just adore. Anyway, after cohabitating on LiveJournal for the past year or so, it was nice to finally meet the real person, who is every bit as charming and delightful as he is online. Welcome back to town!