I smile an odd rueful smile, strange not-crush on likely gay bloke (my gaydar came free in a box of cereal so is not to be trusted, i make assumptions because the type of work he does and how he dresses on his day off). we have delightful chat and draw our boundaries oh-so politely, and little moments keep popping into my brain like some sort of memory toast that is just easy to munch on absently.

and nice IT boy smiles the rueful smile as he eavesdropped on my declaration "there is no shame in liking Motorhead, and it's good for infant development".

and i like these nice little unspoken moments. i hold them close because somehow i once more have friends who are very organised in their thoughts and so like to tell me their problems in a great deal of detail to ensure that absolutely every thought that crosses their minds is described completely. once more the exploitation of the introverted.