Plans.

R came up yesterday, cue twelve hours of drinking, as is proper for our dojo.  “How’s things with Dakota?” “Meeeeeeeeeeeeh” I stuck my tongue out “change the subject”. So the twat says, “I was in Paris a couple of months back” and I headbutt the table and groan and he asks what’s going on. “I want to take Dakota to Paris, I was thinking it might make a bit of a breakthrough”. Then R just says, “Why don’t you just go and see her?” and I sat and thought about it and it seems like a good idea, except now I’m terrifed that if I tell her that I’m coming up she’ll tell me that I’m not.

Faint heart never won fair lady though, right? I figure a day trip is in order, which means that it’s not a huge step up in intimacy, I’m not looking to crash at hers; I can make some excuse like I have to get back for something the next day. So dash up there, spend a few hours with her, dash back. Short. Sharp. Sweet. That way if she’s feeling like it she can always ask me to stay over and I will umm and ah and suck my teeth and finally, overwhelmed by her, agree.  If not get back and I’ve still had a good day.

Meh.

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