Sixty-three and I met via a competitive karaoke league. (That's right, a competitive karaoke league. It's a real league that deserves an entire blog site all of its own.) I have decided that Sixty-three could have been part of the Rat Pack because he is smooth, confident, charming, and funny; his downfall is that he works all the time. A few weeks after the karaoke league ended I had only seen Sixty-three once at a trivia night since he is always swamped with projects at work, so I invited him out for a karaoke night if he wasn't working late. His response was that for once he wasn't working late but it was because he was at home sick. My obvious response (after telling him to feel better) was, "In an ideal world where you didn't work late on most nights and weren't sick on the other nights, do you want to go on a date?" Yep, it was one of those messages that as I hit send I thought to myself, "This is probably a terrible idea."
Several days later I still haven't heard from Sixty-three, which leads me to believe that he is passed out from too much Sudafed. In this case I'm going to change the saying to no news is oh hell no.
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