As is normal, the usual suspects were there, and we were all laughing, talking and generally insulting each other. All in good fun.
I got a great deal of work done on a sock, and it was, all in all, a lovely evening.
Except for Jesus (note: not his real name. Duh. Merely a reflection of his looks. He has no saviour tendencies, whatsoever). He is an attractive man (meaning tallish, painfully skinny, dark-haired) who I have admired and flirted with for quite some time. Tonight, he made it clear that he was now unattached. And that he was perhaps looking to change that situation. He cleverly referenced previous comments I've made into our conversation (BTW, I'm even saucier than I think I am, if he is to be believed). And to make my knees even weaker, threw some clever insults and double entendres (damn, I wish I knew enough HTML to get the proper accents) into the conversation. I'm a sucker for witty conversation.
I have promised myself, repeatedly, that the watering hole does not equal intimate encounters. Whenever I've broken that rule, it's ended badly, usually making me look like a first class bitch. Which may be true, but that doesn't mean I want to be a bitch.
So, I finished my drink and paid my tab, saying something about an early start in the morning (which is completely true). Jesus paid his tab at the same time.... and walked me out... and stared at me as I walked away, not looking back.
Sigh. I could be having a lot of fun right now, with the devil to pay tomorrow. It's mighty inconvenient when my morals sneak up on me.