They most like what they are to.) There is little, however, to be gained from idle speculation or self-flagellation. (I take with a pinch of salt, these days, the Israeli woman’s oft-heard assertion that she likes English manners.This level entails the hardship of looking away while walking at Allenby and the rude practice of staring.
Petulant and keyboard happy as ever, I cannot resist the knee-jerk response: “Not looking for great dates at this stage. I ponder, for example, whether having been bolder, more forthright, more Israeli, and having made a move in the second date tapas bar might, just might, have paid dividends.
I am a woman who is not expecting anything when it comes to set up dates.
When a girl friend tells me, I simply say OK because I know I’ve got nothing to lose.
Just to be one hundred percent that my intuition is correct – I know that I will not be able to cope with the teasing thought that that body, skin and hair (and, of course, mind) might, just might . The following morning, I receive an e-mail from J containing the exact same excuses. As usual, I search for possible reasons for this latest failure.
– I text J to tell her that I have got the message (that she is “not particularly interested in pursuing this”). “Will call the second I leave work.” But, again, nada.