And now...the stunning conclusion to my exciting story...

We now return to the worst date ever. A couple of posts back I left you at an Italian restaurant in NY's Little Italy. There I sat surrounded by some of the most immature 28 year olds on the face of the earth.

Dinner was paid for (partially by me!) my date had blown the chocolate cake out of his nose, and it looked like our date is coming to a close...or was it?

I figured it was my turn to contribute to the evening, so I began dashing up and down 9th Avenue in a desperate attempt to flag a cab.

"What are you doing?!" my date inquired. "Wind sprints!" I replied, "I want to burn off my Chicken Marsala." He seemed to accept this explanation.

I felt like the Birdman of Alcatraz. I had to escape this hell, at any cost, and I was willing to do anything to anything to make it happen.

Finally, I managed to snag us a cab. It was a beautiful thing. I really enjoyed the trip home. It was a ton of fun to watch Greg hit Brian on the back of the head for 20 minutes. As we entered the city limits, my date ordered the cab to halt outside the biggest, loudest meat market in town. I was so spent from my wind sprints, I didn't have the energy to protest.

"Best friend's girlfriend" and I both needed to powder our noses, so we waded through the beer and vomit and managed to make it to the ladies room.

As we primped our hair in the mirror she remarked to me..."Aren't Brian and Greg hilarious!! They can amuse each other for ever! What do you want? They're guys!! Oooh, Modern English...I LOVE this song. Let's go!"

She grabbed me by the hand, and pulled me through the crowd.

That's when it hit me.

"This girl is deep" I thought. "She has the secret. THEY'RE GUYS!"

What did I expect? Someone to talk to me for any other reason than to ask what kind of underwear I had on or whether of not I like to give back rubs? I don't know what I was thinking.

*It was at that moment I realized that I needed a serious attitude adjustment. Sooo, I did what any respectable girl would do, I went up front while the guys talked, and I danced in place with "best friend's girlfriend." We talked about each other's new clothes and used each other's lipstick. Occasionally the boys would do something silly and we would giggle with appreciation.

At the end of the night I went home with my new boyfriend. I gave him a back rub and listened to him talk about how much money he made the previous year. I even made him a sandwich.

It was a pivotal moment in my life, because I had finally figured out how to make a relationship work.

Life is really only as complicated as you make it.

*Fake ending

Okay, the real ending is, after I used the facilities, I politely excused myself, and caught a cab home. ALONE.

When Prince Charming called the next day to ask me out on yet another date, he was shocked when I refused. He thought we had a GREAT time.

You know what they say, "You have to kiss alot of frogs, before you find your prince."

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to give my husband a big hug, and thank my lucky stars that I found him.


Anonymous said...

That was a doozie of a date. You are a hell of a woman to have stuck it out as far as you did.

Anonymous said...

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Frau said...

Damn wsxhx669 said exactly what I was going to say! I hate when that happens....thank god you kissed a lot of frogs to find that Prince. And reinforcing how I'm glad I'm not single.

Caffeine Court said...

Hmmm..the only part of swxwhx669 I caught was momokoko and love. The 69 at the end makes me suspicious that I might be reading a very inappropriate comment.

Translation please!!

LoveAndBooze said...

LOL! Too funny! I certainly expect more than a conversation surrounding my panties from a guy. Cheers to us, for finding the men who can deliver!

aa said...


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