Bachelor #42

Fixups are scary. You want to think you can trust your friends to fix you up with someone you're actually going to like, for better reason than simply because you're both single. You want to think they won't knowingly subject you to a blind date from hell. They're your friends, after all. They have your best interests at heart.


Or so you hope.


My friend H is going to get a serious talking to for this one.


She said she was at her neighbor's house when a friend of their family stopped by. After hanging out and getting to know him for, I don't know, a minute and a half, she decided to give him my number. Well that seems reasonable.

She said he seemed really nice. She said he was good looking. She said he seemed charming and interesting. If she had said he had wings and could fly, it would have been just as accurate.

When I walked into the bar and saw him standing there in his shiny disco shirt, it took every ounce of restraint not to turn and run. But I am a nice person. So I stayed. And this is what I found out about Bachelor #42:

- He is 43 and lives with his mother.
- He is unemployed, more often than not.
- In the place of communication, he rambles incoherently.
- Lookswise, well... what's that expression? Good from far, but far from good. Yeah, that's it.
- Did I mention he was wearing a shiny shirt?

Next.

Bachelor #33

As a seasoned online dater, I pride myself on the ability to vet the REALLY horrible ones long before it ever gets to the face-to-face meeting. Although none of the men I've met so far have been the one for me -- and some haven't even been close -- most of them have been basically decent human beings. Unattractive, dull, cheap? Certainly, but still essentially decent people. I've never feared for my life. Never thought I was out with a serious slimeball. Never had the desire to throw a drink at anyone, run screaming from the restaurant, or felt an urgent need to wash my hands immediately after shaking his.

Then I met bachelor #33. We went out for lunch. In a restaurant. Which is, for the record, a public place. During the day. Bachelor #33 has some kind of middle management job or other, which is what he told me about in his emails, but over lunch, he told me about the business he's starting on the side: a sex toy web site. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm no prude and although it's not exactly the dream job I'd imagined for my prospective partner, and I'm not quite sure how I'd explain it to my mother, I can appreciate that it's a business like any other. Maybe even a successful one.

But then he took a vibrator out of his pocket, turned it on and offered it to me across the table. In a restaurant. Seriously. It was vibrating. Which makes a noise. Which other people heard. And saw.

I think the fact somehow I managed NOT to throw my drink at him or make any more of a scene is beyond commendable. I am thinking about nominating myself for sainthood. Can you do that? I am going to have to look into it.

Next.

Bachelor #5

Warning: SCARY DATE AHEAD

Since I am not very smart, I conveniently forgot about the Yellow Ski Jacket incident when my friend E suggested fixing me up with an old friend of hers. You will note no further postings of fixups from E.

In fairness, she did say he was a little short.

Here are the things she did not say:

1. He was not a little short. He was a lot short.
2. He weighs less than me. He also weighs less than the average Olsen twin.
3. He could easily be picked up and snapped in two. (See #2)
4. If you look up Nerdy Little Man in the dictionary, you will see Bachelor #5.
5. If you think he has the good sense to compensate for his looks with stylish attire, you are mistaken. I wore a cute little skirt and top with pretty sandals. He wore a Roots t-shirt, tucked into Dad Jeans. With running shoes.
6. If you think he has the good fortune to be able to compensate for his looks with his dynamic personality or sparkling wit, you guessed it. Wrong again. Personality? No evidence. Wit? 'Fraid not.

I decided in my head if I saw someone I knew I was going to introduce him as my cousin.

Dating Rule #2: if you are embarassed to be seen in public with your date, this is a bad sign.

Next.