Date update

Well, it's good thing that my children were with their father this weekend.

I met my date (we'll call him Harley) on Friday evening and we hit it off immediately. For over two hours, we chatted about everything from exes to expectations and I am happy to report that he is articulate, funny and he has loads of hair. Then, I invited him back to my place to see my etchings. He left on Sunday just before the kids got back home.

I need to give my family a minute to digest that information. Could someone please get to my mum and see if she might like a glass of water and help getting the lid off of the Xanax.

Okay, better?

KIDDING!!! I didn't invite him back but if I was Madonna, I would have.

Harley appears to be normal. He is straight, has an ordinary relationship with his mum and I'm not getting a Ted Bundy vibe from him at all. He was born and raised in a different country and thus, he possesses this accent which made me want to run to Victoria's Secret for provisions.

Our coffee meeting was quite good except for the fact that we were so obviously on a first date and I picked the WORST seat in the place. Instead of being nestled away in a corner with a bit of privacy, I plunked down at a table in the dead center and thus, as other people seated themselves, our conversation became the entertainment.

After a couple of hours, we decided to part ways and walked outside where we continued to talk for another 30 minutes. We exchanged numbers and this turned out to be a tense moment of the night. I gave him my cell number and he said, "Let me call the number to make sure that I put it into my phone correctly."

Well, he dialed it and my phone did nothing.

It lay in the palm of my hands like a dead fish and I was positively dying because I knew he was thinking that I had given him a false number. I could feel little beads of perspiration break out at my hairline and suddenly, I looked like someone who is hooked up to a lie detector being asked if they masturbate. Talk about awkward. I stared at the phone in utter disbelief, willing the damn thing to ring. I was chewing on the panic when all of the sudden, we figured out the problem and my phone starts to vibrate and belt out the blues.

Then came time for the goodbye and we looked like we might have been directing traffic. I stuck out my hand at the same time that he might have been going for a hug and we both sort of take a step back and then he sticks out his hand and I go in for the hug and then I'm thinking, "ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS!"

I had parked my car on the far side of the building in case I needed to make an emergency exit which was good planning for a bad date but not so smart for a good date because I found myself having to turn my back on him to walk to my car. I gave him the view of my broad shoulders that, while useful for laying an opponent out on the boards in hockey are not my most flattering asset. And then there is my Grandmother's bum which has afflicted several women in my family, deserves it's own post and has somehow firmly planted itself on the top of my legs. Let it just suffice to say that IT'S NOT MY GOOD SIDE!

Apparently, it didn't bother Harley. We went out again on Saturday....