It's Unfair, Is What It Is

You know, just about every time I start getting to know a girl, this kind of stuff happens (http://zbigchicken.blogspot.com/2014/06/stupid-restraining-order.html).  It's like, I start learning a little more about her: about her job, her interests, her hobbies, her friends, her bike lock code, the type of shampoo she uses, her nickname, any moving traffic violations she's had in the past seven years, whether or not she had anything "expunged" from juvie, what TV shows she watches, and at what time she watches them, then the type of cereal she eats at or around 11:45 pm every night, right after she watches the last episode of The Simpsons, but before she brushes her teeth with a toothbrush that's really so old that I can't BELIEVE she hasn't replaced it yet, and then flosses in that really cute way she has.  I can't explain the flossing, you'd just have to see it, and if you come over tomorrow night at approximately 11:48 and 45 to 50 seconds, you'll see exactly what I mean.  Just don't be too late, because, oh, wait a minute, tomorrow's Friday, I almost forgot!  She always goes out with her friends on Friday and does this really neat potluck game night that I'm really looking forward to being a part of (once the restraining order threat is lifted).

Anyway, it's always right about this time that they catch on to the hidden camera in the laptop I "repaired" schtick, and then they get all jumpy and start telling people that they think they're being watched or followed, which really hurts my feelings but really only embarrasses them because most people don't even believe them anyway.

Plus, I would never follow her.  Since I know where she's going to be, on what day, and at what time, I just happen to be there then, and isn't there something ennobling or admirable about being in the right place at the right time?  I just don't understand why they freak out about it, is all.  Or why they don't figure out who I am or why I'm watching them in the first place.  Well, usually they don't, but this one, she did, so I'm beginning to think that she's a keeper.  Maybe next week, I'll ask her to marry me.

Your enamored,
Chicken