It's Unignorable, The Lack Of Action

I haven't decided if moving to San Francisco had been good or bad for my ego. On the ONE hand, I get hit on a lot. A lot a lot, like catcalls walking down the street and invites to dance clubs from complete strangers. I've said "I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend" so many times I'd start to believe it, if it weren't for the total and unignorable lack of action.

But you know in Scary Movie how there's the housekeeper with the one deformed little shriveled hand, that kinda looks like a combination of a fetal pig and an earthworm? That's the OTHER hand, here. Because the guys that are hitting on me. . .um, does it sound just too too egotistical to say I consider myself out of their league? Like, far out of their league? Like, I'm the majors and they're the Booneville Beauty College intramural softball team?

One thing I looked forward to, moving up here from my last town, was the larger dating pool. In my hometown, there weren't that many straight, attractive, non-drug-addicted, employed kind of guys, and I'd already dated them all. But so far, all the attention I've gotten has been from fat fortyish balding men carrying shopping bags or herds of thuglings in loud sweatshirts and ill-fitting pants.

It's getting a little un-awesome.