I've been waiting to get this job. Two months now. Two interviews, waiting on a third. I'm starting to have a bad feeling. I think dating has prepared me for this - I know when they don't want me, I can feel it when they become vacated of interest. It's palpable. Like when I said to Erica that I would never want kids, that I hated kids, that having kids would be the worst possible thing I could do to my life, I could smell the silence, I could hear the light go out in her eyes. But we still had a good time. We still finished dinner. We still got gelato. We still made out in my car and I still felt her up. She had a nice body too. But she really wanted a baby in it at some point. So we would not have a second date. And I would not lie about what I want just to try sleeping with her.
Two interviews doesn't mean anything either. I had two dates with Gabriela and I thought it was going well. She was a gorgeous six-foot-one Brazilian woman with thick, cascading red hair. She was into feminism and social justice and greasy food. We had similar appetites and she complained how she gained a hundred pounds since coming to the states. Sugar is in everything. And she can just see me as a fat American kid eating chicken nuggets and ketchup and I laughed it off but thought her choice of words was rather rude. We talked about how racist America is but still not as racist as Brazil. Apparently, if you're anything other than black, you're white. Asians, Mexicans, they're all white so long as they're not black. We talked about how when she was 13 she was in an abusive relationship with a 19 year old boy and how her dad would drive drunk with a bottle of whisky between his legs because that's fairly standard down there.
