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He would look at himself in the mirror behind the bar, obviously fascinated by his own reflection, playing with his hair. I no longer felt glamorous; I was changing back into my frumpy, post-breakup self. We had sex again, the same routine. After five minutes he was asleep. We had dinner at Church and State in the Arts District. The whole time he seemed to be checking out a girl at another table. I volunteered my card, and after Dating male fitness model awkward interaction in front of the waitress we finally settled on splitting the bill. He seemed to resent the fact that he had to pay. We headed to a bar next door—by this point I needed a drink. He talked and talked, mostly about himself, his goals, his problems, his needs… I came back from the bathroom to find him flirting with another girl.
She looked like a model too. When I tried to interrupt them she acted like I was invisible. After she left, he acted like nothing had happened and continued talking about himself. Why was I putting myself through this? He invited me back to his place, this time I politely declined. I walked out into the night and waited for my Uber. Personal Space I had to admire his gusto, it was hot. Well, we women love attention. Type keyword s to search. Whatever the case, the happenings at the gym will likely find their way into our general conversation. Tupperware containers and blender bottles. Then we walk past a mirror together and I remember his arm is the size of my torso.
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