Last weekend, I met Brad the Bad. And, you know something? He really was. But I suppose I can say one nice thing about him. He looked really great with his shirt off, which is so much more than I can ever say about Lane, who really looks kind of scrawny with his shirt off. Mainly because he's so freakishly tall that it's impossible for him to put on weight.
Brad told me all the things that Lane never did: I was beautiful, I was intelligent (wait, Lane did mention that. I think). Well, anyway, he just wasn't Lane. It was sad actually. He kept grabbing for me while I was trying to sleep. A genuine guarantee that I would never sleep with HIM again.
But onto the next, I always say-and bring on the cream cheese.
That's right, my new favorite food is cream cheese. I like it on everything. Being that I'm near menopause, it's probably for the hormones, but no matter, last night I had a dirty bird martini (dirty martini with cream cheese stuffed olives). And I drank that thing down desperately, because, let's face it, I REALLY REALLY needed a drink after the day that I had had. And the olives were delicious. I do love olives.
My date and I discussed the horrible traffic. We had both "gone around" it, by driving through a parking lot. In fact, I even threw a small tantrum on the way over. Because, let's face it, Hilda don't DO traffic. Nawsuh.
He was a normal kind of tall, six foot two-and stocky enough, well over 200lbs, which was kind of nice.( I am most tired of meeting men whom I outweigh.). After spending half the evening with me, he handed me a tiny chunk of Adderall because, the fact is, darlings, Hilda is very ADD. And this hot doc "could tell".
After feeding me drugs (which, to be fair, is always welcome because you know, I am always a wee bit out of sorts), "a pediatric dose", he said. I felt, you know, able to function. Still had a headache, but I was able to not be comatose from the food.
For apps, we had cream cheese filled won tons (ordered by guess who? (ME!) And he ordered something with salmon in it, which we didn't finish. Let's face it, it if 'ent raw, I'm not eating it (salmon).
Next, I had a craving for fettucine alfredo, which was somewhat blunted by the crappy unseasoned noodle they saw fit to serve. But the caesar salad was good. I ate all of it. I really liked it. Very fresh.
For dessert, we had Godiva(TM) chocolate cheesecake. Very rich. And the decaf I had was also good. Yay Cheesecake Factory(TM).
The other thing that happened was that I got very comfortable with D. I put my feet up-and he massaged them! Very gently, I might add. Perhaps TOO gently.
We walked and talked and seemed to be hitting it off. The key word being "seems".
Later that night he wrote that we didn't have anything in common, but he'd be happy to just fuck me (because I was SOOOO sexy (rolls eyes)), but that a relationship was out of the question because I couldn't abide his beard growth and was an early riser.
Yeah. Well. What can I say?
At least I got a decent meal out of it.
I remain,
Hilda Stinson
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