I grabbed dinner with a French french last night, S, who is soon leaving for a year to Australia on a working holiday visa. She happens to love sushi like I do, so we found a good sushi place near les Grands Boulevards. Afterwards, this turned into drinks and dancing across the street at an Australian bar called Café Oz.
¨Oh,¨ I laughed, ¨ I forgot to tell you!¨ We were dancing and laughing and having a good time. I had recently brought her up to speed on FWB but not the other ridiculousness that is Frenchmen in my life.
¨ Monsieur Lawyer texted out of the blue again.¨
¨What!?¨ she laughed.
¨Yep. He must think I'm stupid but I see right through him.¨
Which I do, the jerk. I love making him feel like he has a shot in HELL. Our brief text conversation went like this:
ML: ¨ I just got back from the US. Our discussions were really pertinent!¨ (He had a conference in NYC. And like I care about his discussions.)
Moi: ¨Oh really. Well I'm happy for you then.¨ (Hadn't heard from this kid since he rando texted me in December and then dropped off the face of the planet. And after straight up AVOIDING me asking him what he wanted from me).
ML: ¨ Did your apartment move go well?¨
Moi: ¨I haven't moved yet. I might ask to stay here.¨
ML: ¨ That could be good. And your research is going well?¨
Moi: ¨Yes. And you?¨
ML: ¨P.S. You really aren't like all the otherAmerican girls!¨ (Yeah, because you're a manwhore who probably wrangled a few into your bed in NYC?)
Moi: ¨Oh really?¨
ML: ¨Yes, you are sophisticated and think critically.¨
Moi: ¨Thank you, that's a nice compliment.¨
ML: ¨No, that's sincere, not flattery!¨
Moi: ¨I NEVER doubted your sincerity.¨
EVER.
And I haven't heard from him since.
All I can say is: WTF!?
He doesn't have a shot in hell. I refuse to be a mere pretty face to an jerk who is interested in only one thing.
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