Disclaimer: I was reading back and I seem to be obsessing over my budding non-relationship A LOT. I am sure you are bored of it. Well, too bad. My blog, my contents.

Okay, so back to Friday …

Tamara and I decided that we didn’t want to go the the store launch thingy, so I told non-date that actually I was free if he still wanted to do something (have I mentioned that earlier on Friday I insulted his clothing in a very loud voice in a rather public place? The hurt look on his face will not soon be forgotten … and to you men out there, pleated, cuffed khakis teamed with a beige on beige plaid/checked shirt with brown shoes and a brown belt is not a wise choice. I’m just saying.) Anyway, after thanking me for basically saying that hanging out with him was better than nothing, he took me our for a lovely walk to the beach and then a great dinner at a fabulous restaurant that I had never been to.

Then we walked back to his car and about halfway back I realized that he was holding my hand. (the appropriate sound now is “aww!!!”)

We got to his car, I grabbed my stuff and he had to go to the airport to pick up his ex-wife. Yes, I am well aware that that sounds like an awkward situation, but it’s not, really.

When I got home there was a message from him on my phone: “just calling to tell you that I had a lovely, lovely time tonight and I really enjoy spending time with you and sorry we had to cut it short. Have an excellent weekend”

Yes, I got all tingly and grinny and called him back while I was out walking the dogs and we had a lovely chat and well folks, I do believe we have the clarity I was looking for.

The hand holding was nice, but what clinched it was the follow-up call.

(oh, and apparently my wardrobe comment really struck a nerve and we will be paying Banana Republic a visit next week. I am really good at spending other people’s money)

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