Friday, July 4, 2014

Another Date from HELL...


See this woman? Well forget her! Take all of her facial features and lower them about 1/4 inch and wrinkle her up and make her into a bar regular. THAT was my date. The only thing missing was the cigarette hanging from her loose lips. I suspect that she was yet another victim of Botox as her face never cracked a smile. So you wonder how I wound up with this creature from below. It went something like this:

It was about 11 AM and I was just awakening. I was up until 4 AM reading a "can't put it down" mystery. After relieving myself and hopping back into bed, I reached for my iPhone to see what the news of the day was. Since rejoining match.com a few days ago, I've been inundated with emails, winks, likes, and interest shown, by a multitude of women, mostly between the ages of 70 and 85. The key word of inundated being "undated!"

I don't remember this woman's name or never knew it, but that's okay since I'm not going to need it. One of the emails I received was from this lady. It was short and brief and to the point and included her cell number. Now remember, I'm still in bed. When reading from my iPhone in bed, I'm on my back and suddenly I fumble my phone while trying to enter her cell number into my phone, fully intending on calling her later, not now! After regaining control of my phone, I can't help but notice I accidentally called someone, I wonder who? Oh, I called this old woman that I was trying to memorialize for a future conversation. You're probably wondering, if I don't like her looks or her age, 64, why am I keeping her number? Well, I liked the way she got right to the point and offered up her cell number, she might be nice? She wasn't! Instead of hanging up, which was an option, I felt, oh well, and waited for her to answer. She was in her car, 90 minutes late for work and what does she do? She's a principal at a West side Phoenix high school. After meeting her, I suspect a hangover might have contributed to her tardiness...

I asked her to tell me a little about herself and she did. She said she was from Illinois, actually Skokie, 100% Italian, moved to CO. for school, has one son and one stepdaughter, was married for 18 years, together for 20 and she asked about me. I simply answered, same as you! Then went on to tell her I was married for 22 years, but neglected to mention it was to 3 different women.

The she asked me to meet her for a drink tonight at the Keg in Desert Ridge, about 7. Here's what I liked about her, she took charge and women seldom do that with me. I'm not sure if I liked it, but was willing to find out. I didn't!

When I first laid eyes on her I was totally disappointed and thought about running out the front door waving my arms and screaming. I thought here goes another wasted evening. You know within seconds if the stranger you are meeting is going to be a hit or a miss and this one didn't even hit the wall the target was on. Prune Face describes her.

I've always wondered why Italian people are so proud her their heritage. When I think of someone 100% Italian, I think of someone tossing a pizza or laying bricks at a construction site. I know this is going to alienate some people, mostly Italians. Jewish people are doctors, attorneys, geniuses, head up the motion picture industry and are generally world leaders, yet you never hear a Jew say I'm 100% Jewish with a big dumb smile. Just sayin'.

At some point I told her that my son and I converted to Italian around 1991, mostly due to our love of the food and also Camaros! Now that line should have brought the house down, it always has, and she never even broke a smile and asked if I was serious and how one converts? I calmly explained that I'm of Jewish descent and you cannot convert from a religion to a nationality, you need to be born into it. That's when she told me that it was not funny. Around that time, she motions for the waitress and orders food. I told her I wasn't hungry and I was under the impression we were meeting for a drink, not dinner. She ordered anyway! I neglected to mention that the place she chose, The Keg, was mobbed with people and to speak I literally had to SCREAM! She didn't scream and I barely heard whatever she was saying and didn't care. At some point I asked about her children and she told me her son was in his 6th year pursuing a medical career and she doesn't know what her stepdaughter was doing or where she lived and didn't care. (How sweet?) That's when the check came and it cost me $23 for her to eat 2 farcockta crab cakes with wine and me to drink a coke! Oh, and she put ice in her red wine!

No kiss, no hug, just a warm nod goodnight... Ninety minutes seemed like a lifetime...

1 comment:

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