Okay, real talk.  This isn’t exactly the happy-ending story I’d like it to be, but I’ve got to share with you the details of my recent fantasy crush cum real mini-relationship, if only to encourage everyone to buck up and make some moves in the new year. 

Have you ever seen a guy working in a store you frequent, and developed a massive crush on him?  Er…I have!  For the past eight months, I’ve been completely smitten with a guy who works at my local bookstore.  I’ll admit the crush had become a bit extreme; I’d spent over a hundred bucks on books and befriended the entire security staff in an effort to work up the nerve to talk to this dude.  Why?  Because he was, hands-down, the hottest guy I’d ever seen.  Also, anytime we’d spoken, (i.e. “Did you find everything, okay?”) I thought it was obvious that we’d have a real connection.  Clearly, things were getting serious. I’d even started setting aside Chris Brown during my sexytime fantasies, and thinking of bookstore boy.  So, eight months after the inception of the mega-crush, I introduced myself. 

Emotional cripples. Religious zealots. Man-babies. My recent dating roster could serve as a police lineup of degenerates, liars, and serious letdowns. Naturally, I’m hypersensitive to red flags these days. So when a guy I’m interested in tells me that he’s a “bisexual,” shouldn’t I run? Perhaps. But once I got the initial panic out of the way (OK, I called my friend and frantically yelled, “911! 911!”), I let his confession marinate. Then I decided I’m not going anywhere. Or, if I do, it’ll have nothing to do with his half-gayness.