I knew when I agreed to this date that Derek was not my current type. I actually picked him for that reason. Let’s be honest… I’ve been ass deep in heartache and begging…. the least attractive a lady can be…. so I didn’t expect this to be a fun choice.

This was a date based on vice, not vision.

I have had a horrifying week full of sore muscles, financial bombs and vomit. My little Dumpling caught the worst of it this week and I’ve been juggling a million nightmares while smiling through feeling marginalized by the one person who can turn my frown upside down.

My stupid car broke down and I had to go pick it up tonight. Three guesses who I called and the first two don’t count.

Already sick to my stomach with nerves over a date I don’t want to go on, sitting beside the reason I have to go in the first place, I fought back tears and was grateful for the dark of daylight savings. He wasn’t paying any attention so it wasn’t hard to just sit silently and breathe through the cold and disinterested side of him. He’s like the moon, shining on me when he wants and never when I do. I’m itching to touch him and he could not be more prickly.. when hot tears break and spill down my cheeks. I brushed them away and bit my lip to stop the flood. He sat silently and I prayed for the minutes to turn into seconds.

We got to the mechanic and I bolted. I didn’t even thank him… and we all know that’s not like me.

Into the safe haven of my car, I absolutely bawled. Great. Puffy, red-eyed glory for my date. That’s awesome. I just wanted to cancel, pull on my ugliest and most comfortable pajamas, and go to bed at 7, with the Dumpling. My date was driving over an hour to take me to dinner, so I needed to pull it together and put myself back together as well.

I flew home, put a pizza in the oven and ran for the shower. A quick 10 minutes and I was blow drying and painting myself into a misleading version of pretty. I clean up well.

The babysitter arrived and I was off to meet my next bad choice.

I’ve been craving my favorite hippy food lately so I took him to a place I don’t usually take a date, in order to eat what I wanted. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but when I walked in and saw a dozen people I knew, I kicked myself.

He was waiting at a table and looked like the only dessert on the buffet. I could see women eyeing him and whispering to their friends.

I really have spectacular taste in douchebags when I’m being shallow.

Derek is 27, 6’5″ and reminds me of chocolate pudding. I got to the table and held out my hand to shake his. He hunched over and kissed my cheek. He reeked of whiskey and we’re in a hippy bar… so I knew it wasn’t recent.

J- Hi. How was the drive?

D- Long.

J- Hungry? This place has horrible service and great food.

D- and no liquor.

This is where I should have left. I should have just cut my losses and gone out the back door he doesn’t even know exists. I’m starving and determined to shake this heartache off, so I ignored my inner voice and ordered my favorite mahi-mahi zucchini wrap.

Awkward silence at the table has me looking around for a lifeline… and there are only nightmares from the past, bobbing all around me. I excused myself to the bathroom and did the unthinkable.

I sent the sober version of a drunk text to the guy I’m suffering through all this bullshit for..

Silence… nothing but deafening silence from him.

I went back and sat at the table while Derek told me how lucky I was to be there. I ate the one thing I felt like I could actually stomach after another week from hell.

I didn’t even cry. (Go ahead and clap.. … because it was touch and go there a half dozen times.)

Our inattentive server brought the check and Derek eyed me smugly.

D- Your place?

Once upon a time, I could have said yes. Ten years ago I’d have been only too happy to ignore his shitty character in trade for screaming orgasms.

Now?? Not in the slightest.

J- Thank you for dinner. I appreciate you making the drive to take me out, but no. I’m not taking you home.

D- Why not? I wanna fuck you.

J- Charming as that is, I’m not interested, but thank you.

D- Your loss.

J- That’s debatable, but ok. Have a nice drive home and thank you again.

I bolted for that beautiful back door that led to my freshly repaired car and the ticket to climbing into my bed, by my own damn self.

Single never felt so good, even if tears are more common than satisfaction.