There should be a quota of bad dates a girl should have to endure in a lifetime. Here is the formula: Let's say a girl starts dating when she is 16. 16+30-12=34 3+4=7... this young lady should go on 7 horrible dates. OK, this is not scientific...I just made this formula up. But I think that most people should not have to sustain more than 10 bad dates every ten years. That is one awkward evening a year, kind of like a lady doctor appointment. No one wants to go, but we know we have to and after it is over and a few weeks later the "all clear" postcard in the mail, we rest easy. Wasn't sure I wanted to post my love life on a public forum but it is too bad not to share. Here is a glimpse into a few of my recent California horrible dates.
Sparkle Man: This poor soul either had a cold or allergies that resulted in what could only be described as "Shiny Post-Nasal Drip". Throughout the 2 hour date, a small pool of clear snot resided on the real estate between his upper lip and bottom left nostril. My very sensitive gag reflex was teetering on shaky ground as I smiled and kept the conversation flowing. He also blinked about every 8-10 minutes, which lead me to believe we were in a unspoken "Stare off" game. Men, if your nose is uncontrollably running, take an anti-histamine or reschedule the date! At one point I wanted him to shove TP up the nostril so I wouldn't have to keep staring at the sparkling river of goo.
KITTY! Man: Not all horrible dates are the other parties fault...I will take credit where credit is due. *Cat Explanation below. While walking home after a nice meal with a very friendly and BUFF man, I spotted a statuesque feline basking in the sun. Instead of taking a mental picture of this beautiful creature and continuing on our stroll, I screamed "THAT IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CAT I HAVE EVER SEEN!" Then proceeded to run to pet the cat. Turning to look at my date as a cuddled the kitty I saw the look of fear in this mans eyes and read his thoughts: "DANGER! DANGER! CAT LADY! CAT LADY!" After that I should have probably put on a fanny pack, some cargo shorts and kissed all sex appeal goodbye. We are still friends but nothing romantic ever happened. Note to self: 3-4 dates before any conversation of cats can be had, and even then all minimum enthusiasm.
Sundae Man: After a fun tournament of Ultimate Frisbee I met Sundae Man. He worked at a Nutrition Center and wanted me to teach a yoga class at the center. I gave him my number so we could talk about this new class. Wow, talk about Bait and Switch, when he called the next day, he acted like we had never talked about yoga and proceeded to ask me out. Although I was peeved about the false promise, I decided he seemed harmless and a drink would be OK. Our first date was enjoyable. So I agreed to see him on Sunday to go to the beach. Thus begins the makings of a PooPoo Sundae: He just got a DWI, tells me a story and calls an Ex a "tramp", smells like beer from the night before, when I say I am feeling tired he tries to hug me to make me "feel better", after I get out of the ocean he says "man you must be cold" while looking at my chest. The cherry on top: As we plop down on the sand after a swim in the ocean, this man FARTS! Completely unintentional, a squeaker sneaker. I look at him in horror as he tries to start a conversation to divert attention from his toot and I look at him point blank and say "You just farted."
Stay tuned for more Bad Date Stories: Dead Dogs, PowerPoint Presentation and Split Checks.
*I have a new love of felines. I recently discovered that I have grown out my cat allergy and had the pleasure of living with a delightful cat named Brutus. Brutus changed my attitude for these 4 legged friends. Thanks Bru-haha! I miss you (and your owner, Julie) everyday!
Sparkle Man: This poor soul either had a cold or allergies that resulted in what could only be described as "Shiny Post-Nasal Drip". Throughout the 2 hour date, a small pool of clear snot resided on the real estate between his upper lip and bottom left nostril. My very sensitive gag reflex was teetering on shaky ground as I smiled and kept the conversation flowing. He also blinked about every 8-10 minutes, which lead me to believe we were in a unspoken "Stare off" game. Men, if your nose is uncontrollably running, take an anti-histamine or reschedule the date! At one point I wanted him to shove TP up the nostril so I wouldn't have to keep staring at the sparkling river of goo.
KITTY! Man: Not all horrible dates are the other parties fault...I will take credit where credit is due. *Cat Explanation below. While walking home after a nice meal with a very friendly and BUFF man, I spotted a statuesque feline basking in the sun. Instead of taking a mental picture of this beautiful creature and continuing on our stroll, I screamed "THAT IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CAT I HAVE EVER SEEN!" Then proceeded to run to pet the cat. Turning to look at my date as a cuddled the kitty I saw the look of fear in this mans eyes and read his thoughts: "DANGER! DANGER! CAT LADY! CAT LADY!" After that I should have probably put on a fanny pack, some cargo shorts and kissed all sex appeal goodbye. We are still friends but nothing romantic ever happened. Note to self: 3-4 dates before any conversation of cats can be had, and even then all minimum enthusiasm.
Sundae Man: After a fun tournament of Ultimate Frisbee I met Sundae Man. He worked at a Nutrition Center and wanted me to teach a yoga class at the center. I gave him my number so we could talk about this new class. Wow, talk about Bait and Switch, when he called the next day, he acted like we had never talked about yoga and proceeded to ask me out. Although I was peeved about the false promise, I decided he seemed harmless and a drink would be OK. Our first date was enjoyable. So I agreed to see him on Sunday to go to the beach. Thus begins the makings of a PooPoo Sundae: He just got a DWI, tells me a story and calls an Ex a "tramp", smells like beer from the night before, when I say I am feeling tired he tries to hug me to make me "feel better", after I get out of the ocean he says "man you must be cold" while looking at my chest. The cherry on top: As we plop down on the sand after a swim in the ocean, this man FARTS! Completely unintentional, a squeaker sneaker. I look at him in horror as he tries to start a conversation to divert attention from his toot and I look at him point blank and say "You just farted."
Stay tuned for more Bad Date Stories: Dead Dogs, PowerPoint Presentation and Split Checks.
*I have a new love of felines. I recently discovered that I have grown out my cat allergy and had the pleasure of living with a delightful cat named Brutus. Brutus changed my attitude for these 4 legged friends. Thanks Bru-haha! I miss you (and your owner, Julie) everyday!






