Doubting that I would find my goose. . .

In my last post, I wrote about how I was on a Semi-Wild Goose chase because once upon a time, three months ago, I hooked up with a boy that was one of the cutest I had ever seen.

At the time I was writing that post, I was feeling very doubtful that I would find my goose.

The last time I came down to Portland, I went in on a Saturday night, and he wasn't working or hanging out at work. My chances were slim that he would be there but I was starving after not having much of a lunch and drinking a whole bottle of wine at Stumptown (how could I refuse- it was only $10!!! and it was tasty) and his restaurant has pizza.

So I went in, hoping but doubting that I would see him.

I parked my ass at a bar stool and ordered a cider and a piece of pepperoni pizza. The bartenders didn't give the best service but I had a good time for the couple of hours that I was there.

I think the guy to my left was trying to hit on me but I wasn't having it. On my right, I had a pleasant chat with a French guy who lives in New York that was interviewing at hospitals to match for his residency and the guy next to him was a Portland newbie.

It made for a good V day but it would have been better if I saw B . . .

On a Semi-Wild Goose Chase

I thought I had blogged about my Thanksgiving trip down to Portland but I never did. I think there is a draft or two about it but I never published it.

Now, I'll have to at some point in time because that one weekend down Portland, particularly that Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, has led me (in a small part) to Portland this weekend- right now.

Currently, I am blogging and working on my *novel* at Stumptown (there are a couple of locations in Seattle and one in the Pearl District or the Pearl as most Portlanders call it- which is where I am right now) which means I am also sitting across the street from the place that B works at.

To sum up the Thanksgiving trip- one of my besties and I drove down to Portland for Thanksgiving instead of going home to San Diego because P has family down here. On the night we drove down we decided that we wanted to go out and party.

After going to Kells and Dirty, we had to go to one more bar before we went home. It was dive and perfect for the two of us.

We ended up at Ash St. Saloon and this is where I met B.

P and I were up at the bar talking and a drunk started to talk to us and not leave us alone, so B and his friend decided to play the part of our saviors and came over from the pinball machines to talk to us.

Long detailed story (that I would normally tell) short- I took him home to P's Aunt's house (don't worry it was just me and P staying there that night) and we hooked up but without sex.

It was one of the most fun and best times I've had.

He makes comments about wanting to hang out the next day, Thanksgiving, I'm hesitant. I drop him off at home and then never see him again despite thinking about him constantly since then.

Until a weekend in January when I last minute crash my roomie's Portland trip, a lot of stupidity and embarrassment ensues trying to find B (details for another post), and then I am 99% sure that I saw him Sunday morning when we did a lap in front of his bar.

But I didn't go in and say hi.

I regret that badly.

Because now I'm here across the street from his workplace looking damn cute and I don't think he's working. . .

I think that if I don't see him tonight or tomorrow then I will have to permanently call off this semi-wild goose chase. . .

I always hope, believe, desperately want some crazy story like this to work out. To be an exception.