Earlier this week, I was wondering how a girl would go about chatting up and getting a date with a local hunk.
So I scoped out potential targets and decided to set my sights on the hunkasaurus that delivers our mail. I commenced Operation Dreamy Postman this past Monday.
Here is the play-by-play recap of my attempt to stalk the postman:
Day 1: Since he normally delivers our mail in the morning, I got dolled up and lingered around the letter boxes while eating my oatmeal — all in the hopes that I would “run into” him. Hopes were shattered when the custodian’s sudden appearance forced me to retreat before seeing him.
Day 2: I overslept, so I had to go stalking in my blue onesie, wellies, glasses, and disheveled hair. I was essentially unrecognizable when the Dreamy Postman entered the building. Alas, I couldn’t look him in the eye, let alone strike up a conversation… I was so mortified to be caught looking like deranged blue hedgehog.
Day 3: I was feeling more proactive, so I decided to go out in the neighborhood to hunt for the Dreamy Postman and catch him on his delivery route. I got sidetracked when I stopped to play with a local French bulldog, so I had to shuffle off to work without any sighting of the Dreamy Postman.
Day 4: I decided to take the day off from stalking the Dreamy Postman. I was contemplating the pros and cons of further stalking while en route to another date that night, and by the time that I arrived at our meeting place, I had ultimately decided to abort Operation Dreamy Postman.
But as I walked up to meet my date, he turned out to be none other than…
… the Dreamy Postman!
Despite my failed attempt at stalking, lucky me, I still managed to get a date with the local hunk!
Thankfully, the Dreamy Postman didn’t make the connection between the Man-shopper before him and the unmitigated disaster that was in our foyer a few days earlier.
Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that the date was an swirling vortex of awkwardness. (It probably didn’t help that I was kicking myself the whole time for failing to make the connection between the cute guy on the dating website and the Dreamy Postman. I HATE being caught unawares.)
So despite my best hopes and intentions, I must say…
…NEXT!
