What Was I Thinking?

As I continue to review the year in dating (aka laying around eating Christmas cookies and drinking wine with the fam), I found this gem from June.


Aunt Jemima

The other day my mother told me that I'm flipping men like pancakes.

Well. I'm pretty confident that she'd move on from the guys I've dated lately as well. Take Mr. Nice Guy?. We only hung out twice, but in the time we spent together I'm pretty sure he went....#2...three times. Unless he was redoing the wallpaper in there.

Act 1 Scene 1: we’re having drinks on our first date, when he exits stage left to use the restroom. So I call my Dad, chat for a bit, then throw a few darts by myself, pretend to care about the soccer game on TV, refill my beer, and finally just sit down and zone out. By now it’s been a bit of time and I’m wondering where on earth this kid is, but I’m having fun so I don’t want to assume he’s doing THAT.

Then, we’re hanging out with his friends, enjoying some pepperoni thin crust and playing Wii, when he quietly exits the room. For all I know he’s in his room blogging about how crazy I am, because he doesn’t tip toe back into the room for several minutes. And I swear I caught a tiny whiff of something foul. It’s just natural. He’s a sweet guy. Maybe he had McDonald’s for lunch.

By the third time, I’m realizing my new friend needs to rethink whatever he’s putting in his body. We’re at my friend’s condo getting ready to head to the game, and shocker! He shuffles into my friend’s bathroom, which is right off the kitchen. The rest of us are getting our stuff together, placing glasses in the dishwasher, tossing the leftover appetizers, putting the wine in the fridge. And he’s STILL in there. All I can think about is the burrito he ate before our date that night.

Finally twinkle toes comes out of the bathroom and closes the door behind him. And I’m staring at him thinking, Hey Poopy Pants, there's a time and a place.

He did say he wants to go into gastroenterology, so maybe he's down with the bowel movements. I get that it's part of life, I did grow up with two brothers, but it's a little early in the game to be getting so cozy with the toilet seat when I'm on the other side of the door.

Anyway, I've been emailing with a cute Bostonian and he asked if I'd want to meet for coffee sometime so I just sent him my number. Perhaps it's my long-standing thing for Matt Damon and Mark Wahlberg, but the idea of a Boston guy seems exciting.

How you like them apples?