This is how I angst.

I am angry. The weak stabs I've made at summer romance have completely died and have left a nasty stink over everything like the dead rat that is currently taking a dirt nap under the replica Globe stage the Comedy of Errors cast (including myself) is performing on. 

I hate Facebook. It brings unwanted reality into my life. Do I  NEED to know who is going out with whom? Couldn't I just pretend everyone was fair game? 

I have two sad tales to tell. 

STORY THE FIRST:

Amani and I have seen the handsomest man in Austin, and perhaps in the world. I joke not, ladies. He was distractingly perfect, the kind of guy who gives George Clooney a run for his money. Short dark hair, slim but muscular body, cute and slightly chiseled face. Anywho, said Mr. Handsome (as he will now be referred to) was encountered at Deep Eddy Pool. So first, he's just sitting poolside looking handsome, but then he does some laps, and then he sits down to talk to this guy, whom he obviously knows and they start chatting. Whatever. 

Amani and I gaze from the distance, whilst pretending not to. We argue about whether he is gay. The fellow with sunglasses on is OBVIOUSLY gay (here on will be referred to as The Gay One), but I just don't want someone of this caliber lost for females everywhere. 

And THEN.

They come over to the wall between the shallow end and the lap lanes where Amani and I have been chillaxing and reconnoitering and sit some feet away from us. And they (particularly Mr. Handsome, I must point out) completely check us out. For a long time. 

And then they leave and go back to their towels after Amani and I get into a laughing fit. 

Which SUCKS.

But then we have to go to our towel, which is near their towels, and they totally have their eyes on us whenever we pass by. So basically, we make a point of walking past a lot. 

But then Amani leaves, and I walk her out, and then I come back to the towel, hoping that maybe my nearby sunbathing will grant Mr. Handsome the courage to come over and chat me up or something. 

Does it?

Would I be writing this if it had a happy ending?

No.

I sit down for about two minutes, and he gets up and LEAVES.

Which on the one hand may mean that he was so smitten with Amani that he took off after her, in which case, I wish you both oodles of happiness. 

But it still sucked.

Blurg.

Second story coming later.