1 p.m. — K. comes to my door rather than texts me that he's outside, but my apartment is clean and it feels nice to let him in. He comments on how good it smells, because I have essential oils in the diffuser (witch shit). He sits on the couch and we kiss a bit, but I tell him I'm hungry, so we head to the restaurant. At the restaurant, K. parks on the street to avoid paying for valet. He comments on the bar across the street, and I tell him I met one of the guys I'm fucking there when I said loudly that I only fuck tall guys and he stood up and introduced himself. He is 6’7”. Inside, we order an appetizer of tomato bruschetta, and I tell him the biggest reason I went home last week is because the summer tomatoes are much better there. We both get the fish tacos. I get a cocktail and he gets a house-made soda. K. pays.