He likes me. He really likes me.

You ever notice that when you PRIDE yourself on something life always has a way of putting your pious little behind in its place?

I pride myself on reading people.
I'm an actor so studying and interpreting others behavior is a necessity.
You can't emulate what you don't understand.
People are often so obvious with how they feel.
Body language and facial ticks.
You don't even have to listen to what someone is saying, you just watch them.

And I pick up on all that.
I can feel when a guy is interested in me and when he's too queer to realize how ravishing I am.
Like the hottie at the coffee stand?
SO my tall, lanky, shy cup of decaf.
I wanna get up under that and get my face rocked off.
But He. Is. So. NOT. Into me.
Douche nozzle.

But.
I'm savvy enough to know the difference and pick up on the subtlties of his body language towards me.
So.
Snaps for me.

So my arrogant little gauge of character was knocked on its puffed up ass recently when the schmuck I'd a-s-s-u-m-e-d was another sleaze monkey actually gave a damn about me.

How the hell was I supposed to know he was clever enough to see how awesome I am?

Guess my awesomeness sometimes clouds my brain from seeing how nice some sleaze monkeys are.

My bad.