File this one under 'Huh'

The other night I got to talking, online of course, to someone I went on a few dates with four years ago or so.

I vaguely remember the few dates we went on, his penchant for convenience-store food, I think we had some wine at Barbette, long drives on dark streets, never even kissed him though he was beautiful and intriguing.

I was snagged on the shoals of an ex at the time, and stopped returning this boy's phone calls while I tried to sort things out in my life.

So, a few years down the line, and I still think about this guy once in a while because he's just so sweet and cute, and we're chatting, and I mention I'd like to buy him a beer sometime. He seems receptive, we talk about work and life and what we've been up to, a little witty banter in the IM window, and we're set. We'll catch up over beers soon.

I'm feeling quite pleased and intrigued again.

Twenty-four hours later I'm bored and distracted for a few hours at work, and check out the boring, fake, slutty, and rarely hilarious postings on Craigslist.

Only to find that the boy I've recently connected with has become quite the party planner. It's really not safe for work, but you do need to check his posting out.

Le sigh.

In other news, I ended up making out with the Crypto-Jew in the parking lot of the 19 Bar last night. He brought me roses and wants to give it another shot. He says he misses my lips.

I blame all of this on track #7 of Radiohead's new album. I was listening to that very track on the bus on Monday when, passing the intersection of Lyndale and 22nd, I caught a glimpse of Charlie waiting for the bus in his pajamas and I almost started to cry (I only cry on the bus in the mornings). It started all of this.