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Archive for the ‘Dating’


De-Koi: A fish called Bob 0

Posted on July 10, 2006 by Marna

Should I remember my first kiss? I don’t. I do remember my first traumatic kiss. I forgot all about it until last night when it was surpassed by my new worst kiss ever.

In high school, I went on a double date with a girlfriend. She was off somewhere making out with her guy and I got stuck talking to her cousin. He wasn’t attractive, but he was nice. When he made his move, I was stabbed multiple times by his three-day shadow. The experience left me with a red-faced beard-burn lesson.

With age comes experience, right? Bob had promise. He’s a 45 year-old east coast native who just accepted a position with a new law firm. We had a great dinner and a fun evening until the goodbyes.

He came at me like a wide-mouth bass with rigor mortis. Mouth was locked in an open position and the stiff lips did not move. He dragged his lower lip across my chin, over my lower lip and across to my cheek. He repeated this mating ritual several times before I broke away with a now-classic signature sign off/cock block.

“Oh god, we have to stop, this is getting too intense,” I said without laughing.

A kiss may be a kiss, but my decades of empirical research has proven, at least for me, a good kisser is rarely a bad lover. Bob the fish may have seized the day, but for me, his trout mouth left me cold. Carp-mahi diem.

Dating synchronicity 0

Posted on June 14, 2006 by Marna

Three months ago I had a date, one date, with a nice guy. The evening turned ugly, thanks to margaritas. Three months to that day, I had a date with a new guy which turned ugly thanks to halibut.

Michael was my first date since the little boy breakup. I decided to chronologically date up and met the 48 year old for happy hour at El Cholo. We had immediate chemistry and we had a great time until I realized he’d finished 90 percent of the margarita pitcher. Binge drinker or nervous dater?

Letting him drive was a rush hour death sentence, so I took him home to sober him up. I felt like I was in college again, helping a toga party roommate. In between puking trips to the bathroom, I fed Michael saltines and aspirin. He went home after six hours of nursing. I vowed never to have a first date in a bar.

For my first date with Roger, he drove us to watch the sun set before dinner in the Palisades. He had the veal, I had the halibut. Afterwards, we drove around, talked more and then went back to his place. Things were going great until I started belching fish. Then I got the butterflies, not because I was nervously excited about this great date, but because I knew I had about 10 seconds to get to the bathroom.

I ran the sink water so he couldn’t hear me refunding my dinner. I then hijacked his toothpaste and gave myself a Marine gargle. I did feel much better, but the mood was ruined. I apologized and went home shortly thereafter.

They say timing is everything. I want off this 90-day reciprocal barf cycle.

This bud’s not for you 0

Posted on February 19, 2006 by Marna

I realize I unintentionally date on the special ed side of the dating spectrum. As one friend recently told me, “There has to be a disproportionate amount of normal guys somewhere because you’ve cornered the market on nuts.” Will it ever end?

He called at 5:15 p.m. on Valentine’s Day to find out when I was going home. “I ordered flowers for you with guaranteed delivery. I don’t want you to miss them.”

They didn’t come. They didn’t come the next day. They didn’t come the day after that, but that was the day I decided to release him from boyfriend duty permanently for other, nonflower-related reasons. His parting words were, “I still want to look into those flowers.”

The following day, while I was cleaning my desk, I found my floral card and envelope from the prior delivery. He said he ordered from the same place for Valentine’s Day. I called the florist who verified an order was never placed.

Honesty is a virtue in a town built on fantasies and lies. Until I find that guy, I’m going to keep my eyes wide open, pay attention to the red flags, and continue to date, I think.

  • About Marna

    Marna’s writing career started as a Pentagon intern. Early exposure to $500 toilet seat press releases made her appreciate creative nonfiction. Now she has more than 25 years of senior-level marketing and communications success working with Fortune 100 companies, government, nonprofits, small businesses, startups, and agencies.

    Stats: 378 Posts, 132 Comments

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