I felt like we were a couple of teenagers. My friend said, “Sooooo… did Adam ask you out?” When last we’d spoken, I told her about a guy I had met and clicked instantly with. We had everything in common, and he was cute, too. I was subtly hinting, and I couldn’t tell if he was picking up on those hints.
“Oh, Adam, Adam,” I sighed. “He we’d me.”
“Oh no. and he’s not the Queen of England, correct?”
Sadly, he is not. Which means when he used the term “we”, it wasn’t the royal kind. He wasn’t saying, “We are happy to confer this medal of honor upon you.” No. What he was saying was, “I’m part of a couple, and I’m trying to let you down gently.” As in, “Oh yeah! We saw that movie just the other day. You should check it out.”
Ugh, What a disappointment. There’s nothing worse than being we’d. I do appreciate his attempt at allowing me to save face. It shows what a decent guy he is. But it also indicates that yes, he was most definitely picking up on my hints, and I basically just got shot down in flames.
Ah, the joy of being single.
[Image credit: memeshare.net]
The View from a Drawbridge 
Nobody likes being we’d on
Well, some people do, but that’s a subject for another blog. 🙂
right… are you going to join in on the reunion party? All weekend long on the record-breaking comment post.
I’ll try, but working 12 hour shifts, plus it’s hard to type.
yeah it is