Bachelor #40

Bachelor #40 was a handsome Greek with dark curly hair and striking green eyes. Yes, I've already visited Greece on my One Woman Tour of the Men of the World, but that is no reason to discriminate.

In our email exchanges, he told me he hadn't been on a date in a while and was a little nervous. Well, lucky for Bachelor #40, he was in the hands of a seasoned professional. I could handle "a little nervous." Leave it to me.

We met at a nearby pub. His first words when we met: "I'm a little nervous." Yeah, I got that.

Actually, "a little nervous" did not quite cover it. I tried to make the usual first date small talk, while he looked down into his lap, where his hands were frantically swirling and twirling like a guilty four-year-old's. Every once in a while, he'd force himself to look up at me and say, before quickly averting his gaze again "I'm sorry. You're very pretty. I'm just a little nervous."

No, sweetheart, you are A LOT nervous. You are a whole crazy mammoth bunch of nervous. You are nervous on steroids. You need to go home and hide under the covers for a few more years before you're ready to come out and walk amongst the humans.

Next.

Bachelor #35

I'm not sure how it happened, but I seem to be on a one-woman tour of the world, without ever leaving home. Sort of like, Around the World in Eighty Men. OK, there haven't been 80 yet, but I seem to be sampling the nations of the world through their men. Which, admittedly, is kind of fun. I've always felt I haven't seen enough of the world, so here's my chance.

So far, in the last year, I have visited: Greece, Iran, Poland, Israel, and most recently, Italy.

At a bar one night recently with H, we met a trio of very interesting men. Because H is very tall, the two short but attractive and successful Italian men were all mine. Not a bad little situation to find oneself in! I had, for the asking, either: a dashing, sexy, slightly aggressive, over-the-top charmer who called me "bella" and offered to take me to Italy, or a sweet, nice-looking-in-an-understated-sort-of-way, sincere, quieter type who seemed to need a fair bit of effort to work up the nerve to talk to me.

Being the astute judge of character that I am, naturally I eschewed the kind, sincere man who probably would have treated me like gold in favour of the overt charmer who turned out to be unavailable, self-absorbed, primarily interested in getting in my pants, and I suspect, despite his protests to the contrary, married. It's kind of like "two men diverged into a bar, and I, I took the one most travelled by."

Brilliant, huh?

Next.