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Meet Your Match

I didn’t believe a word he said.

And I wouldn’t give him my number.

He told me he lived in LA and worked on TV shows doing sound, yadda-yadda.

I told him my name was Cinderella and I lost my glass slipper.  You’re supposed to make up whatever you want in Vegas aren’t you?

The club closed at 4am and I did not want this guy following me.  Jonathan and Tina drove the six of us back to our hotel garage and then got a cab home.

The remaining four of us went into our hotel lobby.  Luckily, their hotel was right next door.

I didn’t want Mark coming upstairs with me so I kept stalling.  Tried to hang in the casino but didn’t want to gamble.  Tried to go to another lounge-y club but they wouldn’t let anyone else in because they were trying to close for the nite.  My feet hurt and I was exhausted.  I just wanted to go to sleep, but this guy would not go away.

He was enjoyable to talk to, we had really good conversation and, as you can imagine, covered a lot in 3 hours.  Carrie and Trevor were off making out and having a nightcap at a casino bar.

I thought if I sat down I would fall asleep.  So up we went.  My feet were throbbing.  He carried me down the hallway from the elevator to the room.  We went inside and ended up sitting at the table and talking for another half hour until there was a knock at the door.  It was Carrie and Trevor thinking it was dark in the room.

It wasn’t.  All the lights were on and Mark and I were talking.  Once the other two came inside, we got ready for bed, it got dark, and the TV noise filtered all sound.  Nothing too important happened.  He jumped right before he fell asleep in this weird seizure-like way.  It kind of freaked me out, but at least there was no snoring.

Didn’t sleep well. Our guests left in the morning, but not before Mark asked me for my number.  I argued that we would never see each other again.  But he kept insisting, “I’m on the east coast a lot, I was just there for a month.  I’ll call you.”

“No you won’t.  We’re never going to see or speak to each other again.  I’m not giving it to you.”

He insisted.  I said no, then finally “fine.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to give this stranger my number.  What I usually do is give someone new my work number so I can screen it for awhile and still keep them at a safe distance.

But I was so out of it I couldn’t think of my work number.  I couldn’t even think enough to change my cell number by one digit, which is what I wanted to do.  So I gave him my real cell number and that was that.

He immediately retorted by calling me and asking me to put his name in my phone.  Who was this cheeseball?

M-A-R-K  L-A-S  V-         I started to put in, but he said, “No put my whole name in.  It’s Ziegler, with an I before the E.”

How cheesy.

So I did, figuring we’d never speak again…

The BEST holidays

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