My Transformation Into a Rabid Beast

Okay - so long story short (but not so long since it happened unexpectedly over two days) I met a guy - Dr. Handsome we like to call him - and for some reason he found my awkwardness charming enough to randomly engage me in conversation at the town festival.  Through a series of events that include both physical contact a joke about touching my boobs and the admittance that he would like to ask me out but is freshly ending a relationship he ended up with my number.

TWO WHOLE DAYS and no call from the man who has irrevocably stolen my heart. (That's melodramatic sarcasm for those who can't read between my hastily typed lines).

I expect the call will never come which is why I have begun my recovery process!  Yesterday E and I went and hung out with our two favorite waiters from the Brewery here in town (we're classy gals and are now regulars at all of the local establishments that will serve us alcohol - meaning the two where murders have not yet occurred).  We went to Lincoln Park with Napoleon and played Lava Monster on the logs, went on the swings and then out for beers where I bit the one boy who tried to drown my last onion ring in ketchup.

Yup.  Swift and smooth recovery.  I have now become a rabid female feasting on the limbs of unsuspecting males.  My last boyfriend would probably argue that no transformation has occurred and that I have always been this way.  Which is promising for my dating future...

I will leave you with a photo of Napoleon and I at the Folklife Festival at Seattle Center a few weeks ago.  He has since grown too large to be comfortably worn in my jacket.  I have yet to pass the rabies on to him.

EDIT: Let's take a vote - does this story count toward achieving Number 80 on my "100 List"?  I didn't actually ask him out...and we have not gone on a date.  Though the number does not specify that that stranger needs to say yes, only that I need ask.  Which I guess I didn't...but I'd like you all to weigh in on this.