Heartbreaker

So a couple of days ago I bumped into a guy friend I knew from grade 10 and according to his drunken babble (not to mention the lingering kiss on on my cheek good-bye) I had broken his heart - which he felt the need to tell me over and over again.
I had no idea that I had had such an affect on him.

Then there was the story/gossip, at Andrea's wedding rehearsal dinner, that Cheryl and her husband (the single woman is fast becoming a dying species) had bumped into a guy from Richmond around her sisters age and after he recalled not knowing Andrea, she tried me (Richmond remember is quite populated). Turns out I went on a date with him but he "screwed it up" and it was "probably his fault". Me, I didn't even remember his name for the first few minutes. I felt like such a slut...or maybe a stud?

Then today while dreaming about owning my boat at a dock in Coal Harbour, Apdual (he spelled his name for me) from Africa tried to pick me up.
His line?
A - "What boat would you like, I'll sell it to you"
L - "hmph...I'll pay $20...for the SeaStar"
A - "what?! You would want that boat out of them all? [translation: that boat is crap] I would take the fancy sporty speed boat beside it because it's small and fast and has such flashy colours"
L - "I think that [pastel] green is disgusting"
A - "Really? It's my favourite colour! Hey would you like to go for drinks with me?....."

My ego has been stroked. Purrrrrrr.