So I’m at DryWalk Blow Dry Bar getting my hair done for my date last night when I get a text message from my mom.
“Gavin hurt his foot. He needs to be seen by a doctor.”
And just like that my dinner date evening in Los Gatos turned into an evening in the ER with my son, his broken foot and my ex husband. Oh joy.
The ER however, was so fast that we were in and out with a splint and crutches (my son is THRILLED he’s on crutches) in about 2 hours, leaving me plenty of time for my date.
So I went out with Tony last night. We went to the Jack Rose in Los Gatos for cocktails. I had a Sazerac and Hemingway. He had two gin and tonics.
But not even alcohol could save this date. To begin with, Tony sweat profusely and used cocktail napkins to mop up the sweat which he then placed on the table by our food. Ew yuck. He also burped all night long and announced about an hour into the date that, “The Hispanics are trying to take over our government….”
I should have ended the date right then and there. I was getting tired and spending too much time stifling yawns to be a very good conversationalist, even if I’d wanted to. I found myself daydreaming about Edward, another useless and painful pastime of mine.
I tortured myself with another hour of him asking me. “So what are your hobbies? So what is another hobby of yours? Tell me the last fun thing you did….” and so on.
He was so not my type I practically jumped out of the car when he brought me home. Then I leaned back in, gave him a hug and said thank you and left for the comfort of my empty bed.
Oh ugh. Have I mentioned how much I hate dating now.