Dont Mince Words

I had a date Saturday at 3:30 p.m. at Olive Garden.  He called ahead and asked if there was a corkage fee.  I took his bottle home with me instead. You can write the end of  this story.

I make bad decisions when people pressure me for new dating material.

I willingly admit that most women are batshit crazy, men are assholes, and collectively, dating is hard at any age, anywhere.  But I’m telling you, the men outdo themselves in California (legalized marijuana?).  I used to think I was just perimenapausal and I was losing interest in men, but the truth is, each interaction I have with a man reminds me why I have a dog.

My Q1 penis prospect was no different. A week after our first date, we had this transaction via text message

Him:  How’s your week been?  I’m so glad it’s Friday. We should grab a few drinks tonight

Me:  Yes, shit week. Tonight no good but tomorrow is open.

Him:  Sounds good. Let me know if you break free later on

Him (4 hours later):  So bored, out on lame date.

Yes, you read that correctly, he asked me out, then went out with someone else, but texted me to let me know was bored on that date.  Awesome manners.  Obviously, his date didn’t shank him because he reappeared almost a month later telling me we should meet up for a drink to “catch-up”.  On the night he suggested, I had plans, but suggested he swing by and join me with friends.  He didn’t show up.

Three weeks later he appeared again, via text, with the same line.  I played along because, at this point, he’s just a source of entertainment, like a squirrel is to a dog.

Him:  Let’s grab a drink this weekend.

Me: Sounds good. Let me know when.

Him: Tom afternoon/early eve.

Me: French Table happy hour starts at 3.

Him: Haven’t been, but lets plan on it.

Tomorrow came and went and I never heard from him.  More than 24 hours after we were supposed to “grab a drink” he texted with “Hey there. What are you up to?”

There are two pieces of sage advice my mom gave me.  When I was young, I rolled my eyes thinking I had more dating experience than her… what did she know.  But she knew what women before her knew and just passed on good advice.

(1) A man without a plan who doesn’t follow through with actions is just a man wanting sex.

(2) Don’t put a penis in your mouth. That’s too easy and that’s not what you are built for.

So guys, if you want to get “in”, just have a plan and stick to it.  I’m really that easy.  Otherwise, call Domino’s because you are probably bored and stoned and “what are you up to” is the best-of your conversation skills.

Today was the 40th anniversary of the landmark Roe v. Wade decision and my first date of the new year.  Two days from now, I become a less-remarkable 47 year old.  The one constant in my life is the light in my car is the best for tweezing unwanted hairs.

Nutty week, right?

First natural wonder.  If my mom had a choice, would she have…. ?   I’m pretty sure the answer is no because she liked staying home and kids gave her an excuse to be home.    I mean she wouldn’t want the neighbors talking about her.  “I hear she just stays home, watches General Hospital, and drinks.”  If you have kids, you can do all that and more.  As a pro-choice advocate, it’s hard to believe it has been 40 years and we’re still debating what life is.  Well, I’ll tell you, life is staying home, mixing drinks, and watching Intervention.

Listen up Detroit.  I believe focus groups with women resulted in the car cupholder.  Or maybe minivans.  I don’t know what came first, but I’m pretty sure it’s from a woman complaining.  So, we all know the best light is in the car.  Tweezer holders.  Please.  While I am getting older and my eyebrows thin, the hair is reappearing elsewhere.  I don’t have a choice here.

My first date of the new year was with a guy who was also too old to be an abortion.  He called, he picked the place (but asked me if it was a good choice), and he paid.  I had beer and I got to check another dive bar off my must-do list.  Win-win.

Nice choice week.