Went out with girlfriend #2 (the 5'7" brown haired woman with 2 master's degrees) last Thursday.  We met for Sushi as Osaka.

She liked sushi, but wasn't too savvy about it.  She didn't know the difference between nigiri and sashimi, but she was game.  We got a sampler platter.  She even ate the unagi (no pun intended).  Her divorce was due to her husband's addiction problems.  He was a gambling AND drug addict.  Even with her good salary, she hasn't had a lot of disposable income with him spending it all on video poker, lortabs, and meth.

She's really interesting.  Her stories are not boring, they have a beginning, a middle, and an end.  Our kids are of similar age.  Our education is similar.  Our career choice is similar.  She really, really attractive.  She, like I, used physical fitness as a crutch and mental health remedy during divorce.  She drank dark beer (brown ale).  It was a great night.  We hugged and kissed.  I'm not sure there's going to be a physical compatability though.

I went out with girlfriend #3 last night (the 5'8" blonde that I blogged about in Major's FF).  We met for happy hour 'ritas and dinner at Lolita's, a holographic night club and restaurant.

We had a couple 'ritas.  I had the carnitas, which were fair.  She had the short rib enchiladas, which were weird, but good.  She invited me back to her condo which was literally just down the street. 

I had bought her a present.  Never has somebody gotten such dividends over such a modest present.  Her twin sons recently moved out.  She got a really nice one bedroom condo as a result.  Last week, she'd mentioned a nice thing about living alone is that they're not eating her out of house and home anymore.  She can buy food, put it in the 'fridge, turn her back, and it'll all still be in there.  She said the worst thing was them drinking all of her orange juice.  She really likes OJ and they had a habit of putting an essentially empty carton back in the 'fridge.  She'd get her mouth all ready for a big glass of OJ and there'd only be a few drops left.  I had bought her a 1/2 gallon of Winder Farms OJ with my last order.  It really is the best.  You read the ingredients and it literally says "Ingredients:  Orange Juice"  Never frozen, no water, no sugar, and not concentrated.  It's navel and valencia orange squeezings only.

She was really happy.  It showed her that I was listening to her stories and was thinking about her when she wasn't around.  Plus, it really is the best fucking OJ ever.

Alas... I didn't close the deal.  It wasn't for lack of desire on either of our parts, it was a timing issue.  What's Her Name doesn't watch the kids, ever.  I asked my mother-in-law if she'd watch my kids and told her I'd pick them up around 11:00.  Everything was going great, and I noticed it was 10:30.  Bwaaaa-bwaaaaaa-bwaaaaa... I put the brakes on. 

"Oh... I'm sorry.  I have to go.  I'm going to be late picking up my kids."

"Are you serious?  Can't you call and say you're going to be late?"

"No, I really can't.  I'd be cutting my own throat for future child care.  What's worse, my kids need at least one parent they can count on to follow through with what they say they'll do.  I really, really want to stay, but I have to go."

It was hard.  I think she understood.  I don't think she's under the impression that I was chickening out.  My desire was... shall we say, obvious?  Rampant?  Unignorable?  Like a baby's arm holding an apple?  Fuck my lack of time management.  It's not like I could set a timer on my phone though:

*beep-beep-beep*

"What's that?"

"Oh, that means that I ought to be balls deep in you now."

That could be a mood killer.

What's Her Name told her son that she was going to have him spend the night with her tomorrow.  She's notoriously unreliable and has reneged on shit like this before, but I set up a tenative date with girlfriend #3 tomorrow evening.  My daughter is old enough to spend several hours in the house alone, as long as she's in phone contact.

When I was about to text girlfriend #3 about the possiblity of meeting up with her, my phone chimed.  It was her texting that she was thinking about me and wanted to say goodnight.  It was a sweet gesture.

I'm looking forward to the possibility of seeing her.  If What's Her Name gets wind of my plans, she'd probably renege out of spite.  I'm cautiously optimistic.

Oh, sorry about the music embed.  I'm on a Frank Zappa and Tom Waits kick.  I was going to embed this song or Chocolate Jesus by Waits.  With dating multiple women, I figured this one would be more appropriate.