We'd worked together most efficiently for years and got along famously. Upon leaving employ, thought I'd like to get together with she and her husband for dinner, which required finding a date. Thus wishful thinking per Francesca.
The woman gave me every indication of being single and I was left to wonder about availability, contemporaneous differential beside the point. Held the notion for a while but have let it go. No opportunity to square the circumstance, I choose to retreat and savor the respite from an oddly engaging experience where cognizance of the gauche seems to be paramount.
There's a clinical aspect where I've gotten analytic and, to my distress, somewhat critical. But I've done my best to maintain savoir faire, as it presents, and not be put out. Low frequency tension betwixt not getting attached and feeling too much so... with a spritely girl indeed. I'm a bit too old for this, the theatrics and wonder.
The restaurant, legendary birthplace of the chimichanga, moved from a run-down location to new digs. Looks pretty good. Had a roommate circa 1982 who worked there and had gone myself many times over the years.
Well, didn't work out. Totally confused. A bear.
Chimies, however, ain't going nowhere.
Good thing and I'm sure I'll meet someone.
Having dropped four stone, prospects increase.
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