I’m a huge fan of therapy. I think it does wonders for people. The much older man that I went out with recently, needs to be in therapy. If he already is, I hope that after our date he scheduled an emergency meeting with his therapist.
My friend’s friend set me up with a man, who I’ll call Creepola. After going out with him, I’m thinking the friend’s friend must hate me. There was nothing about him that was my type. He was at least 20 years my senior but wasn’t the hot and sexy George Clooney type. He was wearing khakis and a navy blazer, which is an outfit that should only be worn by grandpas. The worst part about the date was that Creepola brought his dog. He showed up with a Louis Vuitton dog case as if it was completely normal. Inside the dog case was an adorable Maltese named Fluffy. If we met at a park or a beach, then it would almost be acceptable to bring along a dog. But, a Maltese named Fluffy should never set foot in a restaurant.
To make matters worse, once we sat down, everyone turned around and stared at us. They were looking at Creepola like he was a super freak. His Louis Vuitton dog case was very feminine and he was talking to Fluffy as if she was a person. Thankfully our vast age difference made it look like I was Creepola’s daughter. But, I would have been mortified if I ran into someone I knew.
As if it wasn’t already the worst date I’ve ever been on, Creepola felt the urge to talk about his children. He has a 17 year-old son and a 22 year-old daughter that he mentioned at least 5 times. I tried to make it very clear that I have no desire to become a stepmom. I love kids, not 22 year-olds. Besides, I planned on never seeing Creepola again.
I ate my food as fast as possible and hoped that Creepola didn’t want dessert. I love dessert and could live solely on chocolate mousse and profiteroles. But, regardless of how good the dessert would be, I didn’t want to sit at the table with Creepola any longer. He finished his chicken milanese and I suggested we get the check. When the check came, I felt a moment of relief. I’ve never been so excited to go home, put on pajamas, and make some popcorn.