Princess MoMo

This time, Mr. Lambo provided “Editor’s Notes” (renamed “Lambo’s Notes” because, technically, I’m still the Editor).  See, we switch things up here at princessmomo.com to keep your asses entertained.  You’re welcome.

The purpose of our second encounter was supposed to be business related.  On date one, I had mentioned an idea I had to him.  Accordingly, we scheduled this “business meeting.”   The original venue: Panera, because of the Wifi availability.  I dial pad-ded him on my way from work and told him that the location would have to be modified because I was in dire need of an adult beverage.  (As noted in my last post about Mr. Lambo, he does not drink alcohol, ever.)

I arrived at the location first and seated myself at the bar.  I had a legal notepad and a pen in hand.  Luckily, I have another hand which was available to transport a beverage to my oral kingdom.  He soon showed up.

My mood: Pissy pants.  [Lambo’s Note:   That evening, “Ice Princess” was only in a pissy mood for the first 15-20 minutes.  A combination of alcohol and my attention slowly melted her.]  The hormone demons had taken their monthly siege over my mental faculties.  I expressed this to him the day before our meeting, and at his own risk, he said he still wanted to see me.  [Lambo’s Note:  I knew once I got my head back from the possessed Princess, that it was in my best interest to calm the demon inside by fighting it with a concentrated mixture of liquid courage.] 

We chit-chatted as I slowly, but steadily increased my B.A.C.   About 45 minutes in, several notable things occurred.

First,  a very delayed light bulb lit up in my head.  Because we were only about 10 minutes from my house, I should have had him pick me up, rather than having met him there (because then, I could have more than two drinks).  I expressed this sentiment to him and he said that he tried suggesting that on the phone earlier, but I was too snappy to hear him out.  He revealed that he had even stopped by the liquor store and bought me a bottle of Goose on his way there.  I <3 Goose.  Thank you, Mr. Lambo.  [Lambo’s Note:  By this time, the alcohol exorcism had finally worked.  The previously seen demonic forces had left this beautiful being and we began to enjoy each other’s company as though it was a continuation of the first date.]

Second, he whipped out a package of pink printer paper.  I was confused.  Had he mistaken me for Princess Kinkos?  No.  He was being thoughtful and brought me pink paper on which to write notes.  But, it was unlined and I didn’t need 500 pieces.  I tried to be appreciative, but I have a hard time feigning emotions that I’m not experiencing.   Defeated, he placed the ream of pink paper back in his laptop bag.  [Lambo’s Note:  Some gifts have to provide comic relief.  It got a reaction, victory again.]

Third, I was too paranoid to walk to the restroom because in one of his write ups about our first date, he referenced my journey to el cuarto de baño.  Subconsciously, I know that my ass is being admired, or at least looked at, when I walk away from a specimen, but now that it was brought to my conscious awareness, I was uncomfortable.   Add to this awareness that a guy across the bar was staring at me like I was an oasis in a desert and he was a parched nomad.  Nomad guy was sure to be another MoMo-ass spectator.  But, my bladder reached the point of requiring relief.  I lightly pulled Mr. Lambo’s hat down over his eyes and strutted off to the bathroom.  [Lambo’s Note:  My cat-like reflexes allowed me to adjust instantaneously; the view was enjoyable :)]

Fourth, Mr. Lambo is one of the bluetooth cyborg people.  You know those people who seem to have a bluetooth permanently attached to their ears? Yeah, he’s one of them.   I noticed that on the first date during lunch, but I was too busy processing his earlier douche moves to concern myself with the bionic ear growth.  But, this time, we were actually getting along.  The eartooth wasn’t attractive. [Lambo’s Note:  I wear it to drive and sometimes I forget it’s still in.  I did notice later in the evening and I removed it and placed it on top of my device on the counter.]

We talked, but not about business.  We ended up just shooting the shit.  After roughly two or three hours, my bedtime was approaching.  [Lambo’s Note:  Sounds like a date to me.]  We stepped out of the bar only to find that droplets of water were descending from the sky (a condition commonly known as rain).  I asked him to make it stop.  He couldn’t.  [Lambo’s Note:  My powers were still drained from summoning the forces to tame her inner battle earlier that evening.  One success for the night isn’t bad.]  Fortunately, I carry an umbrella in my purse.  Not coincidentally, the umbrella matches my purse (which matches my wallet, my camera case, and my passport case – again, not a coincidence – intelligent design).

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Related Posts: 

Click here for the initial online dating site exchange with Mr. Lambo.
Click here for Part I of Mr. Lambo’s rendition of the facts of the first date.
Click here for Part II of Mr. Lambo’s rendition of the facts of the first date.
Click here for Part III of Mr. Lambo’s rendition of the facts of the first date.
Click here for Part I of Princess MoMo’s rendition of the facts of the first date.
Click here for Part II of Princess MoMo’s rendition of the facts of the first date.
Click here for Mr. Lambo’s rendition of the facts of the second date.