It's almost the end of summer. Having said that, it's time to re-cap my dates over the summer, and give you a complete list of jackassery. This summer there was a grand total of 4 dates. And here they are! Enjoy!
Spitter, Speed-Date Fiasco, Bad Breath and Secret Gay Guy.
Spitter--
Spitter was a fix-up from my ex boyfriend's ex girlfriend. Yes, a bad idea to have your ex's ex-girlfriend set you up. I was suspicious from the get-go, so I brought a gal-pal with me. As soon as he walked over to our table, I knew it was a no-go: 1980's glasses, and alarming gray-haired mullet that turned plenty of heads as he approached us. But the worst was yet to come. He must have had a grand cache of spittle, for as he was talking, a spot of spittle shot out of his mouth like a rocket and landed on my cheek, then two sentences later another one whizzed through the air and hit my other cheek. What do I do, I thought. If I wipe it off, he'll know he spat, and I didn't want to embarrass him. If I leave it on my cheek, I might retch. I waited a few seconds then sort of brushed my cheeks with the back of my hand making it look like I had an itch when he did it yet again. This time the spit landed on a nacho, just as I was about to put it in my mouth, then again and again. This happened no less than a dozen times. I declined eating any more of our mutually-shared nachos. No more than 15 minutes into the date, Spitter stops talking to me, talks only to my gal-pal then asks her for her number under the excuse that "maybe we could all share our numbers and go out sometime." Whatever. A guy who hits on your friend and gets her number as he's showering you with spit when he's supposed to be meeting you, pretty much says it all.
Speed Dating Fiasco--
Remember that post earlier this summer? Did I mention I occasionally see the one "date" I had walking to the jail next to my house every day? Apparently, he neglected to tell me that he must check in with his parol officer each day. What a catch!
Bad Breath--
Bad breath was also a set-up. Like Spitter, you can gather why. Firstly, I had my reservations all along, for he's considerably older than me, and I'm not sure how I feel about dating men two years younger than my mom. And it's extremely difficult to be a good listener when waves of toxic fumes are blasting your nose and eyes. Hello, Altoid? I had to breath out of my mouth the whole time which made talking rather difficult. The frightening thing was that he was sitting about four feet away. If his breath was that bad at such a distance, what would it smell like under your nose?
Secret Gay Guy--
You know, back in the day, like 30 years ago in the 1980's, it was pretty common to be closeted about your gayness. Not so much now. Except for Secret Gay Guy. I met him online, and after a few emails, he called me. Despite the super feminine slightly British voice (think Nicole Kidman on estrogen), I guess the clincher for me was that for no reason whatsoever he had to tell me three times that he was NOT gay. Yet, I had not asked him if he WAS gay. What's that old Shakespeare quote, "You doth protest too much." ?? WTF??
So that's my summary of summer dating. Don't worry, I'm praying for us all.
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