Vi asked me a question...

..."Date? What's a date? I've forgotten what one of those are!"

Well, I guess it depends on who you ask but since you asked me...even if it was rhetorical...I'll tell you.

To ME...a date is when a guy asks permission to come to my house, pick me up and take me someplace that he THINKS will impress me or that he can afford. Then, the guy tries to impress me with stupid comments like, "My company needed $250,000 so I had to write a check out of my personal account!"

They either tell you more than you want to know about themselves, talk about their hideous ex-wife or some such boring chit-chat. They may just shut up and leave the talking to me...which isn't too bad, I can talk all night. But for some reason, lately I've been going out with guys who barely let me finish a sentence.

They pretend to be wine connoisseurs and tell me what a great year '01 was for a nice Grigio. Then, they let me drink the bottle as they sip on one glass for the rest of the conversation. On some dates, things are going pretty smoothly at this point. They're witty, charming and gentlemen.

Then at some point, they drive you home. If you're lucky, they'll kiss you in the car. If you're not, they have to pee and suddenly...draining the lizard outside is no longer acceptable...they must use my facilities.

Once inside, they try to finagle a spot on my couch so that we can "chat" some more. Then, the real fun starts. Even if I go ahead and kiss the guy, he turns into Americo Vespucci and tries to explore my chest. That's when I either:

1. Get offended and throw him out.
2. Politely ask that he not "go there".
3. Give in because I want his ass just as much.

Now, the latter doesn't happen too often, but the former actions are performed on a regular basis.

Then, they promise to call you soon. They may do it, they may not. They may wait for 2 months which is shear idiocy because if a guy waits that long to call, he's going to hear me bitch...well. I especially love it when they have no idea who I am and treat me poorly. Then, I get to have fun. Some of you have seen what I can do to a guy who doesn't treat me as well as I deserve to be treated...some of you haven't. But trust me...I can be a bitch and a half when I want to be.:)

Now, a smart lady will do what she can to get something out of a date. This goes for guys who are out for one thing...an invite into my bedroom. When I'm dealing with one of those and he asks me out again, I tell him that I have nothing to wear. He offers to buy me something to wear and I let him. Then, I go on the date and perform Action #2. If he doesn't offer to buy me anything, I have already given my reason to decline and need say no more.

When young people date and they enjoy each others' company, they say so. They go with their feelings and just enjoy the relationship. They have lower blood pressure and much more fun than older people who date for a while and then have to "think about things". They've become so jaded that they refuse to allow themselves to have fun without worrying about tomorrow...they simply forgot how to live life without looking for trouble.

Of course the dating world has it's insane and dangerous freaks with personality disorders as does the blogging world. Some of the men are obsessive compulsive and a tad psychotic. They totally fixate on a person and spend hours at a time trying to find ways to get what they want. They’ve lost the ability (if they ever had it) to live and let live. They won’t get over any perceived insult that you may or may not have ever tossed at them. Phone calls, emails and blogs convince a woman that she made the right decision in the first place. Then, she calls the cops and makes them aware of the lunatic that is stalking her.

A date may or may not have a memorable event. If it does, most of them are not pleasant. In my life (off the top of my head) I have had men pull out their purple headed yogurt slinger in the hopes that one look would slap me down on my back and have me spread my legs immediately. Other fun dates have included a guy who peed outside my side of his van so that I had to jump the pee puddle when I got out, one guy who had to go to the rest room and didn’t shut the door because he wanted to talk to me…which he did with conversation peppered with large juicy fart sounds and a hideous stench, another who spent our date hitting on other women, one who pulled out a bag of cocaine and offered me some and of course, a shitload of drunks.

The purpose of the dating ritual is either just to have a friend to hang out with/screw or to help you find your mate for life. That’s a crock of shit. I’ve decided that dating is more useful as fodder for my jokes.

So, that’s what a date is, Vi. I can’t say that I recommend it, unless you want a new outfit and dinner at a nice restaurant.

It’s just such a shame that penises come with men attached to them.