I'm Moving!

After blogging here since last February, I decided to take things on the road...to self hosting that is.  I've pimped this blog out on Twitter and Instagram and even though it's super awesome and all, it's no longer applicable to my life.  You're probably thinking, "What do you mean? The blog is about your life!" That's true, but this blog was originally written as a dating blog and meant to be cathartic.  If you don't believe me, read the little box on the right that says just that.  See?

This blog got me back into the blogging world after a blogging hiatus and has been a blast to write, but my life is more than just dating and funny stories and reflecting on my post-divorce life.  I spent the last year saying that "Hindsight is pretty funny" and it is, but I'm tired of looking at the past.  I joked that if you don't laugh about things that happened in the past, you might end up crying and while true, it doesn't matter anymore.

So, when I got an email for a FatCow sale yesterday, I couldn't resist signing up for a cheap domain (let me know if anyone wants a $2/month domain for a year coupon--great savings!).  I thought about keeping the name Hindsight is Pretty Funny because I've quasi-established myself with that name, but decided against it for several reasons.  First, it's too long.  Second, there are people out there who can't spell "hindsight".  Seriously, you should see the misspelled keywords that get people to my blog.  Yes, I can see what you searched to get here.  Third, I like change and shiny new things.  I want to write about my condo, refinishing furniture, fun outfits, amazing vacations, and a boatload of other things that will fit more into a lifestyle than a dating blog.

My new blog is currently under production (i.e. I'm fumbling my way through self hosting, templates, exporting, importing and HTML coding) and should be up and running for the New Year.  There will be a shiny new name, a new look and new content...but my sassy attitude will remain the same.

Here's to a belated Happy Hanukkah, an almost Merry Christmas and a freaking fabulous New Year!  See you on the flip side!

How NOT to Pick Up a Woman at the Gym

I love the gym and spend a lot of time there running, lifting and trying to keep my booty in good shape and my arms strong enough for decking someone if the need arises.  I joined the local YMCA because it's convenient, clean and relatively free from guidos.  Most of the men at the gym are married, super old or really young so I tend to keep to myself, get my workout in, stretch like I'm in Cirque de Soleil, and get out.  I usually work out in shorts and a tank top, without makeup and my hair in a ponytail.  This weekend I made the mistake of wearing a tank that I haven't worn in a while.  It was one of those built in bra racerback tanks which, when combined with a sports bra and boobs that are apparently too large for the top, make for ample cleavage.

I went to the gym this weekend and picked a treadmill next to an old man, hoping that his potential to let out uncontrollable methane bombs would deter creepsters from my bouncing boobs that were pushed up to rest just inches below my chin.  I set my treadmill to "pathetic" (4.3 mph, thanks stress fracture!), cranked up the country tunes on my iPod, and set off on my power walking return-to-run physical therapy program.

As I was swinging my monkey arms to the beat of Toby Keith, a staff member sidled up to me.  He was sporting a spotty beard and wearing tube socks, the latest trend in the 25 and under crowd in suburban New Jersey.  Concerned my breasts were violating a morality clause of the gym that's "rooted in Christian values and dedicated to helping all people grow in spirit, mind and body," I removed one of my disco ball earbuds and turned toward him.

Awesome disco ball earrings

Gym Dude: "I've only seen you here 3 times. You need to come more often."
Me: "Umm, I'm here everyday when I'm not doing physical therapy or resting. I'm getting over a stress fracture."
Gym Dude: "Really? How'd that happen?"
Me: "Running. I have a stress fracture in my femur from running." At this point I realize he's not going to tell me to put on more clothing and is just trying to talk to me.
Gym Dude: "Seriously? How far did you run? How'd that happen?"
Me: "Far and long and fast" ::getting annoyed and wanting to return to my workout::  It's an overuse injury.
Gym Dude: "But like how far? I mean, I look like I probably run more than you and I'm fine."
Me: "That was rude. This is me ignoring you now."  :replaces disco ball ear bud: Note: Dude did not look like he ran more than a half mile ever in his life.  
Gym Dude: Garbled apology and further attempts to talk to me
Me:  "I'm still ignoring you. I'd rather listening to Taylor swift than talk to you...and I hate Taylor Swift."
Gym Dude: "Blah blah" Presumably trying to justify stupid comments
Me:  "Still ignoring you..."

I left the gym a little bit later and he caught up with me.

Gym Dude: "So you're leaving already, huh?"
Me: "Yup.  Well, congrats on figuring out how not to pick up a girl at the gym"
Gym Dude: "Sorry, it's not like at a bar where I can just go up to girl and hit on them."
Me: "Right, it's not, because it's a gym, where people workout"
Gym Dude: "I just meant that it was awesome that you um, run so far and stuff.
Me: "Yeah dude, I leak awesomeness..."

Dating in a Small Town

It's no surprise that I love country music, however it wasn't until recently that I realized that my suburban New Jersey life could actually relate to it.  Although I don't have a dog that ran away or a truck that broke down, I do live in a small town and Miranda Lambert's "Famous in a Small Town" has described how I feel about living here lately.

I live in a small town.  Specifically, there are 8,165 people in my town.  61% are single.  The female to male ratio is 10:8 and 30% of people are between 25 and 44.  There are 313 people per square mile. I'm a lawyer, you do the math because I can't.

My town is a great place with access to walking trails, a CVS, Starbucks, a local supermarket and plenty of single educated men.  While I know that there are of other towns with eligible bachelors, I prefer to date close to home because I'm lazy, gas is expensive, and I live in cluster of neighborhoods that is filled with divorced men. I can afford to date within a 2 mile radius...or so I thought.

As I mentioned, there's a supermarket within walking distance to my house.  I go in there so often that I have made friends with one of the guys who works at the deli.  He even reads my blog, or at least he claims to, presumably in an effort to impress me and get me to go out with him (hi, Mike, thanks for reading but it's still not happening).  Deli guys notwithstanding, I've seen some good looking men walk into the supermarket on occasion and recently joked to a friend that I should hang out at the supermarket to meet men.  That's the thing about jokes, they sometimes come back to bite you in the ass...


So I got an email last week from a man on Match.com who works for the corporate part of the local supermarket.  I mentioned I shop there and am friends with deli guy.  Right away he knows who I'm referring to (apparently Mike flirts with all of the customers and I'm not that special after all) so I did some recon and asked my favorite meat slicer about the Match.com guy.  After things checked out and the deli guy confirmed that the Match guy wasn't a known serial killer, I scheduled a phone call with him.

Within the first two minutes, Match guy tells me that he got a call from the manager of my specific store  earlier that day.  The manager called and said, "Oh, I heard you're going out with Emily, I know her and her mom! How great is this?! (yadda yadda yadda)" Apparently my conversation with the deli guy about the Match guy turned into the hot topic over the prepared foods counter and rumor spread amongst the supermarket employees that Match.com guy were dating, nevermind the fact that we hadn't even met. 

As it turns out, the conversation with Match.com guy was nice but not that great.  We had little in common and I didn't think our connection on the phone was enough to warrant an in person date.  No harm no foul, right?  Wrong.  

I went into the supermarket the next day.  As I walked past the deli counter, I felt all eyes on me. I turned around to see them talking and gesturing toward me. Not that I'm not a head turner, but these hoagie slingers weren't just checking me out.  It was the kind of, "Oh yeah, there's that girl who Mike said is dating the corporate guy".  Awesome. (sarcasm font)

I quickly got my essentials and proceeded to the checkout, all the while bitching on the phone to my mother that this town is too small and my frustration with the awkwardness of my shopping experience.  I can't even go to the freaking supermarket without wondering if I'm going to be the subject of the manager's phone call (which by the way, I'm totally still contemplating complaining about because really, how professional is that?!).  I felt like a celebrity, just without all the money and paparazzi and more of the gossip.  As usual, my mother tells me I'm overreacting, there are plenty of men in this town and it's a silly coincidence.  I rolled my eyes at her through the phone and say goodbye.  

As I hungup and collected my groceries, I turned around to see E, a guy I dated back in September, standing there with his kids, waving at me.  Miranda Lambert is right, everybody is famous in a small town.

What I Wear on Dates

In my last post I mentioned that I went out on a date and was wearing one of my favorite "causal yet sexy" blouses from Old Navy that I love so much.  I haven't posted pics on here for a while after a hilarious attempt by my ex-husband to get me to take this blog down which caused me to go quasi-incognito, so I thought it might be time to share some of my (headless) go-to date outfits with you.  That, coupled with the fact that I need to start clearing out the 1,463 selfies from of my iPhone camera.  Don't worry, I have a head in real life, I'm just refraining from posting it on here (and because my camera doesn't let me get a shot of both my head and my shoes so I've been opting for shoe shots).

I have a pretty casual yet classy style of dressing.  I never buy anything too trendy or revealing and dress fairly conservatively.  If I want a date to know that I'm looking for action, I believe it's best for my personality, wit and wandering hands to communicate that, not my outfit.  That said, I have been known to sport some cleavage now and then.

Below is a smattering of my date outfits, starting with the summer.  You might notice the progression from meatball to SlimJim in these pics, as I dropped almost 15 lbs since then.  You might also notice that my hips are here to stay.  Awesome (sarcasm font) but at least they're more toned now.  And yes, these pics have all been through an Istagram filter.  I've found that Instagram "Amaro" lightened up these pictures perfectly.  I'm also too cheap to get Photoshop and everyone knows Instagram makes you look like a model.

This pic is from the summer on a date with DJ (I wrote about him here and here).  I was probably overdressed because he liked to wear graphic tees and cargo shorts and take me to dinner buffets, but at least I looked cute.  He's 6'2" so I rocked these 4" wedges on almost every date.

Dress: Old Navy, Wedges: Anne Klein

I wore this outfit on a date with a guy named Eric from Match.com.  It was nothing to write home about, so I didn't.  We had a nice time grabbing drinks at a local upscale bar and then played pool at his blue collar men's club down the street.  He was probably the only man belonging to the club who had never worked an hourly wage job in his life.  It was a fun date but he never contacted me...possibly because I beat him in shuffleboard and wasted his money playing country songs on the electric jukebox.

Blouse: Joe Fresh, Pants: American Eagle, Necklace: Stella and Dot

I wore this shirt with jeans out on a date with a litigator from Match.com.  He was nice enough, aside from the fact that I felt like I was being interrogated all night.  We went on two dates but there was no chemistry.  We shared dating horror stories over beers.  He also blogs but declined an offer to guest blog.  He spent 20 minutes lamenting about how gets depressed living in NYC because he isn't part of a couple and has no one to go to brunch with on Sunday mornings.  It was like that How I Met Your Mother Episode where Marshall and a man friend go on bro dates for brunch.

Top: Gap, Pants pictured: Gap, Jeans worn: Banana Republic

Do you remember Mr. Big, the foot fetish guy?  As is sometimes the case, he came with more drama than I posted about.  He tried to weasel himself back into my life this summer so I met him for lunch.  It was one of those "You could have had this but didn't because you're a douchebag who drives an expensive car to compensate for your, um, shortcomings" type of dates.  We had lunch at an upscale restaurant and I wore this dress.  The picture doesn't do it justice but it hugs my curves in just the right way, so that when I sashayed my ass out of the place, leaving him to go home alone, he was cursing himself.  Every woman needs a dress like this.

Dress: Banana Republic, Shoes: Aldo

I wore this outfit on a Wednesday night to meet a guy from Plenty of Fish for drinks.  He was normal and cute and we hit it off.  He had a great sense of humor but after a second date, I realized that under the sarcastic facade, there wasn't much else.

Blouse: Old Navy, Jeans: Banana Republic, Necklace: Stella and Dot, Wedges: Payless (don't judge me, they're awesome and comfy)

If you're thinking this outfit looks similar to the one above, you're right.  It's the exact same thing except the shirt is teal (looks blue in the photo but it's teal in real life).  I freaking love these shirts. They're from Old Navy, wash and wear well (except for the one I had in purple that got a hole in it) and show enough cleavage while simultaneously hiding a post-beer muffin top.

I wore this outfit on a second date to the movies.  I don't like the movies and have no idea why I agreed to a second date at the movies. Even worse, my date wanted to see the Twilight movie, which was surprisingly good (shirtless werewolves make any movie better).  My date thought that the previews were a good time to kiss me for the first time.  Oh yeah baby, slobber on me in a crowded theater full of teenyboppers.  Needless to say, it was a last date.

Blouse: Old Navy, Jeans: Banana Republic, Necklace: Stella and Dot, Wedges: Payless

I wore this for my first date with Thunder Thighs.  We went to a restaurant and got drinks.  It was an awesome first date, but the proceeding ones weren't as good.  I've actually had a lot of luck wearing this top on dates.  I also wore it on my second date with Batman.

Tank: Old Navy, Cardigan: Target (I have it in black too, love this cardigan!), Jeans: American Eagle

I have no idea when I wore this outfit but if I say it was a first date out for drinks I would have about a 95% chance of getting it right.  Apparently I was going for a biker-chic look.  

Tank: Old Navy, Jeans: Banana Republic, Jacket: NY&Co, Necklace: GroupDealz

I'm a huge fan of cowboy boots but rarely wear them out on dates.  I broke them out for dinner on a rainy night with a restaurateur I saw a few times.  He's from Virginia and doubted my ability to pull off cowboy boots.  I proved him wrong. I paired them with an off white lacy tank top and a ruffled cardigan to soften the look.

Tank: Forever21, Cardigan: Banana Republic, Jeans: American Eagle, Boots: J.B. Dillon

Afternoon dates are good too.  Not only does it save calories from alcohol (black coffee please), but they're easy to squeeze in and low pressure.  I met a web designer turned photographer out at Starbucks a couple of weeks ago.  I was going to my volunteer commitment afterward so my outfit needed to be cute enough for a date but casual enough to get snot and glitter on because I volunteer with kids.  The date was fair, worthy of a second if he hadn't been such a sad panda about his ex-wife cheating on him and his house going into foreclosure.

Tank: Old Navy (yes, same as the biker-chic look), Sweater: Gap, Jeans: Forever 21, Boots: Sam Edelman, Purse: Onna Ehrlich

This is the "casual yet sexy" shirt that I mentioned in my Date with a Gay Guy post, although this isn't the night I wore it.  I know this because I recently dyed my hair dark brown and, as you can see, I have blonde hair in this pic.  This is probably a pic from another date.  Since these are my go-to outfits, I sometimes wear them more than once.  Different people, different places, shhh don't tell that I wear repeats! Anyway, I love this shirt (so much that I have it in an orange color that for some reason I've never worn) because it's soft, falls nicely and has a sexy satiny feel to it.

Top: Old Navy, Pants: Banana Republic, Necklace: Stella and Dot, Bracelets: Francesca's from years ago

So there you have it, pictures of me and an idea of what I look like as I'm wow'ing potential life partner candidates.  You may have also realized that it's possible to make cheap clothes look good.  I'm all about not breaking the bank while getting free meals and drinks.

My Date With a Gay Man

Last Wednesday I went out with a man who had great potential.  He was divorced with one kid, according to his Match profile, and working for a great company, as he had explained in our emails.  He grew up in the country, works in the city and loves to hunt.  His family ancestry isn't Italian (hard to come by in New Jersey) so I knew I didn't have a fist pumping guido on my hands.  He was tall and cute with nerdy hipster glasses and I was psyched!

We were meeting for dinner so I had on one of my fabulously casual yet sexy blouses that looks like it's from anywhere other than Old Navy.  I got there on time and received a text that he was running a few minutes late but would be the man in the green jacket.  Considering I had "met" him on Match and already knew what he looked like, I found this fashion information to be a bit gratuitous but patiently waited for my green-swathed date to arrive.

I saw him walking up to the place.  He was as tall and cute as his pictures suggested and wearing hunter-hued outerwear.  I was so excited until he threw his arms out, squealed "Hey--eyy!" and wrapped me in a bear hug.  It was at that point that my brain switched into overdrive.  I must have blacked out under a frenzied inner monologue to the tune of, "OMG-WTF-are-you-doing-you're-on-a-date-with-a-flaming-homosexual (not that there's anything wrong with that) but-OMG-how-does-this-man-not-know-he's-GAY?!" because the next thing I know, we were sitting at a table with menus in front of us and I had an awkward smile plastered over my face like an idiot.

Doing my best not to overreact, we ordered drinks and exchanged the usual first date pleasantries.  I got to hear about his job, his previous job working with recording artists (including some country A-listers) and about his time in the Army (don't ask, don't tell, anyone?).  I started to think that maybe I had overreacted.  Perhaps this is what New Jersey country boys sound like...and then he complimented me on my Cartier watch.  He spent a good chunk of time talking about fashion and clothes and how much he loved to shop. I became increasingly aware of the fact that I was wearing a top from Old Navy and quickly changed the subject.

I moved onto talking about divorce and since he had not broached the subject, I brought up his child.  His Match profile stated that he had one child who lived away from home so I wanted to get the scoop. As it turned out, he not only fathered one child, but THREE children with his ex-wife!  So much for honesty.  To add insult to injury, he was also married when he was 19 and fathered a child with that woman as well.  Technically, that child lives away from home (because he's in COLLEGE!) so I guess his profile wasn't completely misleading.

Throughout the dinner I found myself so flabbergasted that I was on a date with a man, twice divorced, with 4 children and a voice that could only be described as FAB-u-lous! Aside from the lying bit, I had a great time with him once I got over the fact that he was discussing guns and hunting in an effeminate lilt.  It was sad to me though that after two marriages and four children, he still wasn't true to himself.  Perhaps I'm wrong and he just happens to sound like the Honey Badger narrator while really loving vagina, but this Badger don't care.  Gay or not, I don't date liars.

Warning: Explicit language!

Thunder Thighs

Months ago I posted here about why I don't date men in their 20's.  Cliffs Notes: They're immature and I can't be bothered.  However, being the first person to admit that I break my own rules, I recently went out with a 28 year old from Plenty of Fish, who for the purposes of this post, I will call "28".  I decided to give him a shot because he was a nice homeowner with a great job and seemed to have his act together.  That was a mistake.

I should have realized that 28 and I weren't going to be a good fit when he jokingly called his hands his "paws" on our first date.  He said that although they weren't very large, they were rough like paws, hence the moniker.  They were quite calloused, sure, but I didn't think that he was so serious about his physique.

Aside from the comments about his hands, 28 had a penchant for making ridiculously cheesy jokes.  Although I can appreciate someone being their own brand of weird and expressing themselves, I just about died on our third (and final) date when he burst into a round of "gun" jokes that referenced his arm muscles, which, weren't even that big.

28: "Do you have a BandAid?"
Me: "Let me check, why, what's wrong?"
28: "Because I'm cut" ::flexes arm muscles

28: "Do you have any tape?"
Me: "Umm, no, why?"
28: "Because I'm ripped!" ::flexes muscles again::

Almost as big of a douche as Ryan Lochte

As though arm muscle jokes weren't bad enough, he topped off our third date by (jokingly?) calling me Thunder Thighs.  I don't care how close you are to a woman, but the words Thunder Thighs should never, ever ever ever EVER be uttered in their presence.  For some reason he seemed unaware of that fact that this was an insult and got annoyed that I took offense to his comment.  When I told him that his comment upset me, I complained that I was "ruining the day".  The last man who told me I ruined the day with my (justified) feelings is twice-divorced (only once by me) and still eating cereal for dinner every night.

Dating 28 wasn't a total loss though.  In addition to the Home Depot coupon for 10% off a $200 purchase that he brought me for the light fixture I've been eyeing, I ended the weekend with two kick ass jack o'lanterns, a huge batch of apple crisp and roasted pumpkin seeds from our apple and pumpkin picking date yesterday.

28 might have been a douchebag, but Thunder Thighs came out on top!

Happy Divorce Anniversary to Me!

Today marks a year to the day when I walked up to the courthouse flanked by my supportive parents to officially end my marriage.  The first time I had faced my ex-husband since I had sprung a divorce on him like a trip to Disney World (sure honey, I'll come over at 8. ::ding dong, process server!::).  I remember that day like it was both yesterday and a lifetime ago.

I remember agonizing over what to wear to the courthouse, as I wanted to look fabulous but professional the last time I saw the man I was divorcing, lest he forget what a fine piece of ass an amazing woman, 11 years his junior, he was losing.  My parents told me he had worn the cuff links from our wedding (nice touch) when he came to talk to them and ask them to ask me to reconsider my decision (really now?).  Those cuff links that less than two years earlier had received a marital blessing were now witnessing my mother's infamous "Screw You" speech, calm and nonthreatening with just the right amount of Jewish guilt.

It took all of my self control not to scoff at the judge when he asked whether there was any hope for reconciliation and then let out a "Woohooooo!" when he announced we were officially divorced.  My mother and I celebrated with sangria, courtesy of my amazing attorneys and, later that night, we commemorated the event with members of our golf club over Blow job Shots.  Note: The proper way to announce that you're doing morally questionable shooters in a country club is not to announce, "I'm doing blow jobs tonight!" 

Blow job Shot, no hands necessary

A year ago, people told me that trite adage, "This is the first day of the rest of your life!" that you hear at every momentous occasion.  Between 3 graduations, a wedding, a GTFO (Get the Eff Out) day and a divorce day, I ought to have relived my the first day of my life more times than a cat.  But this time it was true.  Something was different, and it wasn't just my ability to have a good sex life.

Over the past year I lost 182 pounds of baggage (plus 10 of my own, thankyouverymuch) and I've gained back my identity.  As it turns out, there was a pretty fabulous woman lurking under the shadow of her husband!  I became a woman who knows no bounds, who isn't afraid to speak her mind (anonymously and in vague terms) and who knows that she deserves so much better than what she settled for.  Thanks to the support of my family and friends, I have an amazing life with so much ahead of me.

Happy Divorce Anniversary to Me!

Best. Date. Ever. (Kidding) aka The Night I Ditched My Date for Another Dude at the Bar

Several months ago I went on a date with a man who was separated at the time and going through the divorce process.  Although I was breaking my "No dating men who aren't yet divorced" rule, he said they had been separated for a while and were just working out the legal kinks of their custody order.  Having experienced the hassle of legal kinkery (no, not that kind), I threw caution to the wind and agreed to meet him.

He told me he would be coming from court, as he and his soon-to-be-ex-wife would be duking it out over their kids that day.  Awesome.  Putting my better judgment aside, I showed up and hoped that he would be in a good mood, as meeting someone after an appearance in Family Court is like playing a game of Russian Roulette.  When I showed up, he was sitting at the bar, halfway through his vodka rocks.  This is the point when I should have realized that I was dealing with a nightmare and bolted.

Instead, I politely asked how his day was, expecting him to give a reciprocal polite but vague answer then move on to more appropriate first date topics like politics, religion, abortion, or anything other than your divorce proceedings.  Instead he took it as carte blanche to air his dirty divorce laundry through another couple of drinks. After his third drink, he started referring to his soon-to-be-ex-wife as "that effing c-u-n-t" (because spelling it out is not only offensive but leads porn spammers to my blog).

To add insult to injury, my date then proceeded to tell me how much money he made, how he was the most interesting man on Earth, and other things arrogant people like to say that I try to tune out.  The fact that he was a Jets fan and drove a Japanese truck put me over the edge. I needed a reprieve.  What I really needed was to leave, but sometimes I'm to polite for my own good (yes, really).

I excused myself and headed to the bathroom.  On my way there, I was approached by a cute man I had seen sitting near us.  Having heard my boisterous date brag about himself all the way across the bar, he laughed and asked me how my date was going.  I told him it could only be better if he had a gun with which I could shoot myself in the foot as an excuse to leave.  As it turns out, he was a cop and did have a gun, but more on that later.  He told me to ditch my date and join his group for a beer.  I wish...

When I returned from the bathroom my date decided that it was his turn and I realized that I had been sitting next to a member from my parent's golf club the entire time.  He turned to me, laughed and asked me how my date was going.  Thanks for the encouragement, buddy!

After what seemed like eons but was really just another half hour, I threw out the old, "Should we get out of here?" cue to leave.  My date quickly took out his bill fold, stuffed to the brim with discount club cards and hundred dollar bills, paid and we left.  With an awkward hug goodbye, he got into his car, dropped the convertible top down (in 50 degree weather because he's THAT awesome) and let me walk to my car alone.  Best. Date. Ever.  (Kidding)

Determined not to let the night suck completely, I hauled my ass back to the bar and sat down in front of the bartender.  He took one look at me and burst out laughing (no surprise).  You know you're on a bad date when the bartender comes up to you after, laughs in your face and buys you a beer.  Sidebar: I love bartenders.  They're freaking awesome.  Some of my favorite people are bartenders. Ok, so that's not 100% true, but I do really like bartenders.  I just have to say they're my favorite people because some of them know more secrets about me than most of my friends. 

While I was making fast friends with the bartender, the cute guy from the bathroom came over, bought me another beer and laughed at me (again, no surprise).  He and his friends had taken bets on how long my Best. Date. Ever. would last.  Apparently, my date was the only who in the bar who didn't realize how bad the date had been.  This was evidenced by the call I received from him 10 minutes after he left asking me out again for the next night.  I respectfully declined.  

I ended up joining the cute cop's table.  He was with a group of friends, all in their 40's, having a "Guy's Night Out" who were happy to have a borderline-inappropriate hot young thang (my words, not theirs) entertain them with my dating horror stories and thoughts on happy ending massages (just say no, because that's gross and you're married, so it's also pathetic).  I spent a couple hours with them and had a blast.  The cute cop from the bathroom was recently divorced and we had a nice time flirting and laughing.

I tend never to be surprised by things that happen in my life.  My family and friends have often said to me, "Something like this would only happen to you"...and it's usually true.  Going on a date with one man and ending up giving my number to someone else, is not what I would call a normal dating story.  Strangely enough, this wasn't the first time it's happened to me, and it probably won't be the last!

So this means he likes me, right?!

You know those people who manage to take something that has nothing to do with them and turn it around to make it about them?  Yeah, well, I'm one of those people.  Well, not really, but in this case I am.

So I went out on a couple dates with a man who I will call Batman.  I call him Batman because he's brooding and mysterious...and he wears a Batman costume around.  Kidding, he looks like Christian Bale.  The real story is that he sent me a picture of himself making a doucheface in which he had a creepy psychotic resemblance to "Patrick Bateman" in American Psycho.  The conversation went something like this:

Me: You look like that guy in American Psycho right before he fed a cat to an ATM.
Batman: You mean, Christian Bale? Batman?
Me: No, I mean you look nuts in the picture, like you might feed a cat to an ATM.  You don't have a cat to you??
Batman: No, no cat.
Me: So yeah, I guess that's Christian Bale then.
Batman: I'll take it.

Christian Bale's doucheface, strikingly similar to the pic that Batman sent me

Yeah, so that's why I call him Batman.  Anyway, Batman and I have had two dates, the second being last Saturday.  We live a good distance apart and so we spend a lot of time text messaging because getting together during the week isn't really feasible.  We usually keep it to the kind of everyday witty text message banter that keeps things interactive with just the right about of "let's not get too close because we've both been through awful divorces and both need therapy to get over our fear of getting hurt".  Example below:

Banter about the questionable reading material I have on my Nook

So you might imagine my surprise when I just a few days after our second date I got a series of serious text messages from Batman.  Apparently when he was going to pick his kids up from their mother's house, his youngest went missing.  He sent me several texts explaining how he was frantic, running around screaming her name, calling the police, thinking she was gone forever, etc.  They even sent out an Amber Alert for his daughter who, thankfully, was playing in a neighbor's basement the entire time.  

I spent a few minutes trying to imagine the terror he must have felt...then a smile grew on my face.  Awful I know, because who smiles when someone tells you their kid just went missing?  But I realized, "This means he likes me, right?!".  I mean, on a night where you thought your child could have been missing or dead or some other parade of horribles, you generally don't text someone about the horrific incident if you don't like them, right?  If I were just some woman he didn't give two farts about, he would have kept it to himself and spent the night cuddling with this daughter.  But no, he texted me instead, both making time for me and opening up about something personal.

After my realization, I sat there laughing at myself.  What kind of person turns this into something about them?  Apparently, me....and then I called up a friend to tell her the funny story about how Batman's missing daughter proves that he likes me. 

Dr. Jackass and the Online Dating Application

Several months ago I was browsing on JDate when I got a "flirt" (the JDate equivalent of a "wink") from a 30-year old medical student ("Dr. Jackass"). His profile was witty and he compared himself to different types of candy bars.  Considering my sweet tooth and love of witty banter, I decided to give him a chance.  Having dating both med students and doctors in the past, I was on the look out for the arrogant God-complex that these types can possess.  However, since he was an older medical student (30, instead of the usual 22-26 years of age), I thought that he might have the wherewithal to be a grounded human being.  

I noticed that Dr. Jackass had his email address in one of his pictures and realized that this meant he was too cheap to invest the $40 a month to become an actual member of JDate.  Undeterred, I emailed him to that effect, "I figured since you flirted with me and gratuitously put your email address in your picture that you're one of those guys who wants to see if there are hot enough girls on JDate to justify $40 for a month subscription.  I guess I took the bait."  He responded and we exchanged a series of emails in which we discussed the perils of online dating.  

We had a "date" set up to talk on the phone and after he flaked, he offered to send me something funny, as a measure of goodwill.  He said it was a dating app that he and his friends and come up with in their spare time.  Curious, I told him to send it over.  I'm not sure what I thought he meant about "dating app" but I certainly wasn't expecting an "Application to Date Dr. Jackass" to pop up on my screen.  Regardless, I read through the application, found it funny but overly exhaustive (and borderline misogynistic) and sent Dr. Jackass a note that stating that he had too much time on his hands (especially for a med student) but that it was entertaining. Dr. Jackass replied only to state, "I was expecting you to answer the app."  Umm, what?!  

Had the application been shorter and less arrogant, it might have been cute, but there was no way I was wasting my time to answer 23 questions for some 30 year old student who had stood me up on a telephone date.  After scoffing at the fact that he expected me to fill out this "application" I emailed him my response:

"Considering the most interesting thing about you is your knowledge of cheap American candy bars and quirky (albeit borderline misogynistic) sense of humor, my answer is: Good luck to you--it's probably for the best that you were too cheap to shell out the $40 for JDate!"

Below is the unedited version of the application Dr. Jackass sent to me:

APPLICATION TO DATE DR. JACKASS

Your name:

Question 1: Highest level of education completed/currently working towards:

a) high school diploma

b) high school equivalency (GED)

c) associates degree

d) bachelors degree

e) master's degree

f) MBA/JD

g) Ph.D./MD/DMD

h) I go to the Vo-Tech, climb under a car, and sleep all day

I) Jay Truck Driving School

j) what's edumacation?

k) When I grow up, I'm going to Bovine University!"

Question 2: How did you find my profile?

a) Accidentally

b) A friend told me

c) An enemy told me

d) I told you about it

e) I can smell your desperation from here

f) God hates me

g) Blind hogs eventually find acorns

Question 3: Why are you filling out this form?:

a) I want to ask you out. HA!

b) No, seriously, I really do want to ask you out

c)I don't want to go on a date with you, but I do want to buy you lots drinks and watch the train wreck develop

d) I'm horribly desperate for anything male, and you fit the bill

e) This is the final stage in a destructive spiral of self-loathing and despair

f) It's either this or jail time

Question 4: Why do you think you want to go out on a date with me?

a) Because I want to go on a date with you.

b) Do I need a reason? Isn't is axiomatic?

c) I want to hitch my wagon to your star, and this is Step 1.

d) You seem interesting

e) I think you'd be fun to get drunk with

f) I feel strangely attracted to you

g) RadioI'm one of those people who can't divert their eyes from accident scenes, and you have that same effect on me

h) I think your caustic and sarcastic exterior belies a sweet and caring inner self

Question 5: What is it that you find most attractive about me?:

a) Your caustic wit and ambitious verve

b) Your cute face and hot body

c) Your constant use of foul, discourteous language

d) The way your immense ego blocks out any real emotional depth

e) You make me laugh

f)  I like how you never use deodorant. Your pheromones are too sexy to cover up

g) Everything

Question 6: When would you like to go out with me?:

a) Whenever

b) When you are available

c) Hey, we're on my schedule here, Date Boy

d) When your heart stops

e) After I pre-maturely finish my date with this loser

f) As soon as I finish gnawing off my left leg

g) After I give my boyfriend a sleeping pilll so I can sneak out

h) How about never? Is never good for you?

i) "This is my sandbox, but I'm not allowed to go in the deep end."

Question 7: How would you rate yourself in terms of your physical attractiveness?:

a) I'm not very attractive

b) I'm cute

c) I'm cute enough for you, wanker

d) I'm hot

e) If you like morbidly obese, cross-eyed fat girls, you'll LOVE me

f)  I'm a New York girl (it means you have a hot body and an ugly face...and don't email me pissed about this. You don't think that 80% of cute women in New York fit this description? Ask any guy you know living in New York. If he's honest, he'll tell you the same thing.)

g) The kids at school used to call out "Baaaby Ruuth" when I would walk by

h) No, really, I don't think you understand: I am UG-LY

i) "Daddy says I'm 'this close' to living in the yard!"

Question 8: How would you rate yourself in terms of your intelligence?:

a) I can read enough to answer this

b) I'm average

c) I'm smart enough to get your stupid jokes

d) I'm a freaking genius

e) I see dead people

f) I can bend things with my mind

g) I like to use lots of exclamation points in my emails!!!! Yippee!!!

h) "Me fail English? That's unpossible."

Question 9: How would you rate yourself in terms of your emotional maturity and stability?:

a) I'm about average

b) I'm pretty sane, but have some minor insecurities and peculiarities, just like everyone

c) I'm very emotionally stable

d) I am a rock

e) I claw at my eyes, trying to get the demons out

f) The doctor says he can't increase my prescriptions anymore or he'd get in trouble

g) Sometimes, the restraints chafe my wrists. Then the festering starts

h) Why do you ask?!? Do you know something!?!? Who have you been talking too?!?

i) They mostly come at night. Mostly

j) "That's where I saw the Leprechaun. He tells me to burn things."

Question 10: What is your most defining feature or characteristic?:

a) My beautiful eyes

b) My sharp wit

c) My compassionate nature

d) My incredible intelligence

e) My huge breasts

f) I have the ass of a 12 year-old girl

g) My sphincter can break a beer bottle

h) My charming autism

i) My colostomy bag

j) My willingness to use sex to get what I want

k) My perfect landing strip

Question 11: What would you expect me to bring on our date?:

a) Cheap flowers

b) Expensive champagne

c) Your A+ game

d)  I like shiny things

e) A unquenchable libido

f) Astroglide

g) A shoehorn

h)Amniotic dysentery

Question 12: What will I do when I see you?:

a) smile

b) drool

c) start jumping up and down yelling "UH, UH, UH"

d) feign epilepsy

e) vomit uncontrollably

f) run like a track star

Question 13: What will my friends say when they see you?:

a) "Wow, Alex is really lucky. I wish I was him."

b) "Another tall, hot blonde with no self-esteem--he's getting laid tonight."

c) "She's the hottest thing since nuclear fusion."

d) "Tonight's forecast calls for scattered clothes, with a significant chance of intense, passionate love making."

e) "My Lord--she smells like the fish market."

f) "I wouldn't call her fat, but he's gonna need the Jaws of Life to get out of this."

g) "She's just an expensive escort. I wonder how much money she cost him."

h) "Look at her...did she just get released from a methadone clinic?"

i) "Her face looks like it caught on fire and someone beat it out with a rake."

Question 14: What should I wear?:

a) Something that says "derelict frat boy," like khakis, a button down and a ratty hat

b) Something that says "I'm a rich, arrogant executive", like a navy Hugo Boss suit and Hermes tie

c) Something that says "I'm Euro-trash, but at least I look good," like black Armani pants and a tight Zegna shirt

d) Something that says "I ain't got me no money," like a burlap sack

e) Something that says "I've been on Cops," like boxer shorts and a stained wife-beater

f) Something that says "ethnic," like a dashiki and a fez

g) Something that says "I really don't care", like flip-flops, old jeans and logo t-shirt

h) Something that says "retro Miami Vice," like a peach colored polo shirt and white suit

i) Whatever you have that's clean

j) Surprise me

k) Nothing at all

Question 15: What will we do on our first date?:

a) Go to dinner and a movie

b) Argue, yell and possibly even fight

c) Get absolutely shit-housed, fucked-in-half, retarded drunk

d) Fuck. What else would we do?

e) None of the above

f) Some strange combination of the above

Question 16: What type of food will we eat, assuming we go to dinner?:

a) Italian

b) Chinese

c) American

d) Southwestern

e) Vegan (yeah…have fun eating alone)

f) Light post-coital snack

g) Who needs to eat if liquor is available?

Question 17: What will we drink? (we will be drinking…or at least I'll be drinking):

a) champagne

b) beer

c) liquor

d) wine

e) wine in a box

f) whatever is cheapest

g) whatever we can steal from homeless people

h) whatever we can make in your bathtub

i) I prefer hard drugs, thank you

Question 18: How much does it take to get you drunk?:

a)The smell of alcohol

b) A few beers

c) A few glasses of wine

d) A six-pack

e) I can out drink an Irish Catholic

f) Ever heard of Motley Crue? I taught them how to party.

g) "Then, the doctor told me that BOTH my eyes were lazy! And that's why it was the best summer ever."

Question 19: What will we talk about on our date?:

a) Me

b) You

c) Sex

d) Sex in public places

e) The sexual foibles of ex's

f)  What that slut at the next table is wearing

h) How much everyone around us sucks

i) The epistemological and metaphysical implications of superstring theory

j) The epistemological and metaphysical implications of us having sex

k) Flannery O'Connor's use of symbolism

l) Herman Melville's use of metaphor

m) Ron Jeremy's use of irony

n) Lots of different things

Question 20: I should compliment you by saying:

a) "You have incredible eyes."

b) "That is the most beautiful smile I've ever seen."

c) "You are a very cool person."

d) "You're ugly, but you intrigue me."

e) "You know, they can fix your cleft lip. Modern medicine has come a long way from the days of just throwing people like you in with the livestock."

f) "That tumor on your forehead really brings out the brown in your eyes."

g) "Did you fart? You farted, didn't you?"

h) "I'd club a baby seal to get a second date with you."

i) "You should be on TV. They use plain looking women too."

Question 21: Finish this sentence: "I like a man that…

a) respects me."

b) worships me."

c) deifies me."

d) likes me more than a sharp stick in the eye."

e) treats me like shit." (be honest…)

f) has spent a healthy amount of time in a maximum-security federal prison."

g) is uglier than me."

h) is dumber than me."

i) won't make fun of my club foot."

Question 22: What will we do after the date?

a) Have Mountain Dew and dessert

b) Run out on the bill

c) Go dancing

d) Have a long and meaningful conversation

e) Throw the dishes on the floor and fuck on the table

f) Go somewhere to be alone, but just cuddle

g) Point out each others shortcomings

h) Groping and pawing each other

i) Why do I have to make all the decisions? I thought you were a fucking man!

Question 23: How will the date end?:

a) Unpleasantly

b) An awkward silence

c) A noncommital hug

d) A sweet, tender kiss

e) Passionate, unbridled, hanging from the chandelier, sex

f) Us planning for another date

g) Me pouring my heart out to you while you record it to put your blog

h) Me cursing you abusively from the safety of my veranda

i) Me calling the cops to get you out of my house

j) One of us waking up in jail without our shoe laces

Pencils down  ;)

Would you have completed this asinine application???