Dinner and a choke.

Part of me feels like taking this date to my grave, but I just can’t. It just wouldn’t be right.

I met David on Bumble. He’s very George Clooney meets Napoleon. Cute with a side of small man syndrome. Handsome with impeccable spelling and grammar resulting from his journalism major and long hours in the gym. Clearly successful and aggressive. Loves football and full disclosure.

A miniature Great White Shark, if you will.

I came home from work on Friday to my favorite roses, with a note that said:

Hi Baby, now your hands will be free on Saturday. XO Alex (David is my middle name)

#1 flagThere’s only one reason a man doesn’t use his real name when dating…

I wasn’t nervous for the first time in my entire life. I was excited. He was smart, funny and handsome. Success is great, but to be completely honest, I was most grateful that he helped dull the heartache over the man I adore. He was easing my frustration, though falling a trillion miles short of he-who. But I was trying.

He made reservations at my favorite restaurant and I drove nervously to meet him, early Saturday evening.

I met him on the patio of the beautiful hotel beside the restaurant and he kissed me.

Not a good kisser. Eeek. I ducked away and walked swiftly to our table. He made a point to sit across from me so that he could stare down the front of my dress.

It hit me like a truck in that moment.
I missed the man I was there to forget. I was more heartsick in the presence of some bullshit substitute. Dating was maybe not my best idea, because it only made me compare the two and consequently mock the sad, little stunt double seated across from me.

I can feel you all shake your heads at me, but.. damn it… I missed him so much in that moment that I’d have sold my soul to anybody capable of switching the two.

My dates hands were ridiculously clean and well manicured. His nails were buffed to a shine, or polished. I cracked a joke about them.

J- Wow… you’ve never pulled a weed in your life, have you?

A- Can’t say that I have?

He starts to explain that he’s driving the Coroner’s Van because his car broke down the week before and he had to borrow the neighbors. I’m beginning to count flags.

#2 flag Strange that he wouldn’t mention it during the constant stream of texts…

He dropped the bomb I’d been starting to suspect he was hiding and admitted he was MARRIED. Separated for two years and just days away from a legal separation. When I watched him pay for dinner with cash, I knew he was not as close to that separation as he’d like me to believe. He’d planned ahead and was holding an envelope from the bank… I know a married man covering his tracks when I see one.

#3 flagIt’s not very often that people pay cash for a $150 tab. Unless they’re worried about the paper trail a debit card would create.

I was regretting telling him I had until 10, looked at my watch and saw that it wasn’t yet 9. I decided to end the uncomfortable evening, early.

J- Well hey I’m gonna get going! You have a long drive ahead and I’m exhausted. Thank you for dinner.

A- You want to wrap up early?

J- I do.

We left and he walked me to my car. He pulled his necktie off and smiled sideways at me, as he pulled it over my head and tightened it around my neck. I wasn’t sure what to say. The last time that happened to me it was a very intimate moment and I was naked, not in the parking lot of a restaurant.

I gave him an awkward side hug and climbed into my car, fastening my seatbelt around my little black dress… now trimmed by an ugly silk tie. Oy.

Which is when he leaned in my car window, slipped a card into my purse, kissed me on the lips and choked me. I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he thought this was something hot and exciting, but all it really prompted was a reminder to take that concealed weapons class I’ve been considering. I’m pretty sure I have bruises from his hands, if that tells you anything. He gave me a sultry look and I laughed as I rolled up my window and drove away. I hung out until I saw him leave, then went back to retell the horrible tale to my best girl.

Her face said it all.

Then we opened the card.


… …. I’m an atheist and I’m offended. This redefines presumption.


He’s a Bears fan, and I love Brett Favre… but never did I think that admission would earn me a pair of Green Bay earrings as an inappropriate first date gift.

Live and learn, I guess…. oh and YUCK.

I did have some spectacular sweet pea and asparagus risotto though. 🙂

Ask… and you shall receive.


I deleted Tinder. Or at least ghosted a few dozen hopeful men and let it default to my being away on vacation. Someone recommended Bumble… and I love bees so I was immediately pleased with the little hive icons and the fabulous feature that only allows men to contact you after you’ve made the first move.  No rif-raf, frat boys or dirty old perverts… amen.

In the space of a week, my hive filled up with a beautiful brown assortment of men far too young to take seriously, a few educated men my own age and two exceptions.

One shark and one gentleman.

Now once upon a time I only dated sharky men. You know the type. He looks at you intently and you feel undressed. He’s confident, successful, wealthy and bold. He has a plan for you and it’s not always in your best interests. He smells incredible, kisses like he made it up and has the sexual repertoire I crave in a man.

Bachelor #1 is a Great White shark. He’s well traveled, extremely successful and well read. He wants to take me to dinner, dessert… and breakfast the next morning if I’ll let him. (Don’t worry, I won’t) Pictures AND video(s) of his equipment…He’s very interested, has already scheduled out to date 5 and is pulling out all the stops to impress me. I have a scorching hot date with him on Saturday night and am actually excited for the first time in a long time. He’s short, pretty and owns a bookstore complete with yarn. Be still my heart.

But I haven’t ended up anything but injured as a result of my Shark habit and I’m supposed to have grown up and learned from my hardest days, right?

So a gentleman doesn’t sound awful.

Bachelor #2 is a tall black gentleman making it very difficult for me to want to swim with a predator. I wake up to sweet, respectful wishes from him, that I have a great morning. He texts me at lunch with hopes my day is unfolding easily. Facetimes me while he makes incredible dinners for one. No dick pics or discussion of anything sexual. He wants to take me out for coffee after he gets through his finals. He’s graduating from a prestigious university this spring and is every bit as interesting as he is genuine. His intentions have been made as well, and he would like to date me exclusively… before the first date. Over the top, whines about his ex and is… well… a bit boring.

Internet dating is bizarre. Whoever thought you’d see his dick before your first date? Technology isn’t always the most romantic and I’d rather not see it pop up on my phone, to be honest.

Saturday should be fun, weird… or both.

Monday morning coffee with the gentleman should be sweet, boring… or both.

I’ll let you know. 🙂