I’ve now been 51 years old for a little over 3 weeks and its been…
better than sex with Johnny Depp
…so fucking boring that I haven’t had neither the strength nor inclination to write a blog entry about it, so shut the fuck up….
Oh sure, I have left Casa de wittykittyon a few occasions, like taking my mom to the ER on Sunday night thus missing “Celebrity Apprentice”, a show I was going to review for my first column at the newspaper. But our E.R. has this little problem, ya see. You go in at 6:30 p.m. and you tend to not leave until 3 a.m., you know, since the staff is out in the hallway laughing and talking to each other and there wasn’t exactly anything ER-worthy wrong with the patient. So I missed the TV show, the time to write the brief 150 word newspaper article and the deadline. I figure they probably think I don’t want to write for them since I was MIA on the very first week of publication. Yay me!
The previous week had been far more exciting. I actually went on a date. You know, I always am required to go on at least 1 to 2 dates a year or my Vagina License is revoked. And you know how hard it is to renew the damn thing. The long throbbing masses slamming against the single window at the DMV. Its hideous. I basically just have a photo ID, so I don’t have to act like I’m interested when the guy at the window asks me questions like “Where do you live” (wink, wink) and “Is this your correct address?” (wink, wink).
Dude, you’re bald and you’re wearing polyester. Back off!
Oh! My date! So like the day after my surgery I had gotten a note from a guy on sMatch.com. I think we already went over this. He said he’d wait until I healed up from my surgery. I thought that was pretty decent of him. We wrote back and forth about every 3-4 days. He called me on my birthday on February 12th. I think we talked about 35 minutes. He was going to be picking up his daughter at the airport in my city and said, “Oh, I should have taken you out to dinner for your birthday.”
Indeed! So many missed opportunities! Free meals are always heartily accepted by starving artists, but it was already like 6:45 and he lived about 45 minutes south of here. So he asked me out the following Friday, the 20th. I said fine. He said fine. I think we even possibly saluted the Beatles somehow, since that was something we had in common, because we were both really old and remember seeing the Beatles on something besides YouTube.
The Wednesday before my date I started feeling a little angsty about it.
WHAT????? WITTYKITTY ANGSTY?????? omg…CALL CNN!!!!!!!
Yeah, I know, its hard to believe. So when I went to my art class I was hoping to see “L” the Hippy Chick because she’s my only real female friend I can talk to. Unfortunately she wasn’t there and instead I made a really huge mistake. I talked to Zue….the biggest expert in the history of the universe on absolutely nothing everything, but especially on sMatch.com things. Why? Because before she found her current boyfriend she probably dated every dude in a 800 mile radius. For a while she was even attempting to toss me her leftovers (criminals, child molesters, banks robbers, Bernie Maddoff). I, of course, never took any of them. I mean, I don’t want to ruin my 1-2 dates a year thing and I especially am not going to date Zue rejects. That would be like eating what raccoons won’t eat out of garbage cans.
So I told her about my impending date and she asked who he was and I stupidly said three words: his first name, the fact that he was Jewish and his city and she’s like “I dated him!” And I cringed inside. Ugh! Zue cooties! And then she did a true disservice to both me and him. She said some things that weren’t very becoming about him. They weren’t terrible, but just discouraging to someone who only dates minimally and always hopes for the best (I bet you didn’t know that about me, huh!!! Neener!!!).
The next day I just decided to make the best of it. It was sunny and nice all day and then blam, around 5 p.m., a really severe snowstorm blew in. I was worried about “M” driving 45 miles, up through the hills because there were traveler’s advisory in effect. But he arrived exactly on time. 7 p.m. He got out of his car and walked up and kissed me on the cheek.
Really? That was sure a first for a sMatch.com date. Must have been because we were in the middle of a blinding snowstorm and he thought I was Angelina Jolie or something.
Dinner was good. Conversation was better in person than on the phone. He was not exactly my usual “type”…..dark hair, dark eyes…but he was pleasant enough. I was very well behaved. No ribald jokes about sausages or anything.
But when we walked out of the restaurant it looked like the final scene in “The Shining”. The snow was horrific. I felt somewhat stricken. What do I do? I would feel bad if he drove over 80 mile round trip for a 45 minute date in a blizzard. He asked me about the art opening I had mentioned to him earlier. But I felt stressed….what if Zue was at the art opening. She had told me she was going to see her boyfriend in a nearby city….but….here we were in the middle of a massive blizzard. And I just knew she’d be there and I didn’t want to subject him to her or me to her or anyone to her without our rabies shots.
So here we are driving around in circles in a mall parking lot and I was like, “ummm, ummm. I….ummm….well….” Can we see why I don’t date much? I finally told him to turn right at the mall exit and we finally headed out towards the art gallery. It was a pretty treacherous ride and the route I took him was really dark and twisty. Fortunately he was a good driver. So we pulled into the place and we were running pretty late, as in the opening was actually officially over. 8:30 p.m. But there were still people there of course. And who is the first person I see? Zue.
I don’t know how I managed it, but I introduced “M” to about 7-8 of my art friends, looked at the art and somehow got him out of there without Zue ever seeing us. And it was a small place too. I was astounded. She had her back to the door and I just worked around her.
When we finally got back to my apartment, “M” ran around to get the car door for me. I figured he was just going to say goodnight or “Hey scarface, I didn’t feel any spark, so why don’t we just save a little computer time and end it here”, but instead, suddenly he had his arms around me and was kissing me and then his tongue was darting around in my mouth.
Who are you, The Bachelor?
Of course I almost didn’t realize it since my chin and lip are still completely numb from my surgery and you could probably hit me with an anvil and I wouldn’t feel it, but mini-ick. Our date wasn’t going THAT well. I guess he finally realized I wasn’t returning “T-T” (The Tongue) and walked back to his car. I did tell him to call me when he got home so I knew that he was safe in the storm, which he did.
Geeze, I’m such a nice date. Slurp. Slurp.
The next morning Zue called me to see if I was “okay”. Or something. (“Hey “M” its Zue, she wanted to see if I got laid!”) I told her I was fine. What I wanted to tell her was to “Butt the hell out”, because her pre-date “warning” had put me on alert in such a way, that hadn’t really been fair to him or me.
He did write me a brief friendly note the Monday after our date. I was expecting the “I didn’t feel any spark” thing which I usually get on every single date, but it wasn’t there. Unfortunately I got spooked and never wrote back.