Hot and Bothered

I'm quite sure I've ranted before about my dislike of hot, humid DC summers. And yes, I do agree that this summer has been rather kind comparatively. But today, I'm particularly bothered by this uncomfortable weather and thus, feel like ranting about other stuff as well.
First, could someone please remind me never to go on a job interview in 90 degree heat all the way out in Virginia?! I still haven't decided if I'm returning to my job next month after the restructuring and being offered less money and fewer benefits so, I've been looking yet again. Too much to think about. That, coupled with these freakish, gun-toting town hall protesters just makes me want to pack up and move to Copenhagen, where the summers are cooler and apparently Denmark is the happiest country in the world.
I'm also hoping to cure myself of this bad habit of giving out my phone number to stupid dudes. I got a healthy dose of Trickster Dude the other night and he has continued to text me for the past few days. The scenario: British journalist in town for business I met while out with friends. Seemingly nice, fun, interesting, yada, yada. He's here for a month and is having trouble finding fun places to go. At the end of the night we were both hungry and went to The Diner. We share a cab afterwards and as a typical dude, suggests I hang out in his hotel room. Uh, no! There will be two stops Mr. Cab Driver.
The next day he texts several times about my day and what I'm doing. I told him I'd be out later and to let me know if he wanted to meet for drinks. He said he felt really tired and might not be up for it but would call if he did. While I'm out later that night I spot Mr. Brit over in the corner with a woman getting pretty cozy. We glanced at each other a few times so I'm sure he saw me. I also notice him making the rounds and approaching several other women. At the end of the night when I walk over to speak, he acts all surprised like he didn't know I was there. I say good night and leave. About a half hour later, I start to get a barrage of texts asking me why I left and how he really wanted to see me. He actually said that he thought we had plans. Plans? I don't think so. He never called to make any.
Apparently he thought he would try his hand at a few other women (why waste time when you're only in town for a month?) rather than commit to hanging out with me. So, when he doesn't get lucky he figures why not make another attempt with Good Time Girl (me) from the night before. Same tactic as every other dude who likes to call/text at the end of the night to "see what you're doing." How stupid am I supposed to be? I'm done ranting for the day.

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