Almost 18 holes? Raw Chicken, and Hooked on Phonics

Good Evening All,

Sorry for my absence but not to worry good stories are promised to follow. SO labor day weekend after a short correspondence with Prosecutor, we made plans to meet a few towns from where I live. He resides half in DC and half in NYC, and on the phone sounded pretty good. We had a lively banter, and he had a full head of hair in the pics, so I thought it could be promising. That weekend proved to be a monumental dating weekend but I'll get to that later. Let's just say by the eve of our Sat Sunday night date I wasn't as gung ho as original, but I figured I would make the best of it.

We met at the mini golf course, and though he said he would keep score, he talked way too much and as most men can't, he too could not multi task. I kept trying to remind him, the competitive player I am about keeping the score but he assured me he had it under control. Though it had absolutely no relevance to the conversation he mentioned he had just purchased a new car. "What kind of car?" I politely inquired. "A Mercedes, obviously!" Well I didn't get that special Mercedes memo cause I guess I am not on the elite fabulous list he is. His golf skills weren't really even up to par considering he played where else but at his fathers country club. Actually he was the only member of his family who was not a doctor, and maybe that's why he talked so much? Must have had a complex about being one degree off from the other folks.

Meanwhile back at the golf course, as we neared the end he started getting irate. This gold course is a tip off (@ $6.50 a pop mind you) he exclaimed. They don;'t have eighteen holes at all. Actually they do I tried to console him. You just are talking so much you skipped a bunch of holes on the score sheet. Well this just didn't satisfy him. Nope- he insisted on asking the teenage girl manning the mini gold register if there were in fact 18 holes. OK obviously the ten + year old course would have been notified earlier then our gold game if something was amiss. The girl looked at him like he was crazy when he said we had to repeat holes 7 & 8 because they were misplaced. I think his sanity was the only thing misplaced but nevertheless I beat him.

We decided to take a little walk around the area afterwards and he kept drilling into me about why I don't get along with my mother, and offering his psychoanalysis. OK first of all NONE of your business and second of all, you are again the only one without a medical degree in your home, do NOT attempt to get into my head, because if you did buddy you would hear me saying how long till this shit is over.

Though I hadn't been in a while, I figured we should eat outdoors since the weather was nice at this place I'd been to several times before with success. I was starving at this point. Now I must admit to his credit prosecutor did tell a mighty funny story during dinner about how he earned the nick name Atty. Cock Torture after prosecuting his first case against a racy Asian Madam who claimed she was running an S & M club and not a whore house, as she pleaded her case in a one piece (including the boots) zip up black vinyl get up she wore to court.

Before the dinner was served prosecutor sent back first his iced tea, and then a soda. Now this didn't bother me because after each time the waitress said oh we've been having problems with those tonight. Well why not mention that when he ordered them? I had ordered chicken francese since there was nothing decent on the changed menu. Pretty simple...chicken in a lemon white wine sauce. Or so I thought. The waitress brings out my meal, and the chicken is smothered in cheese and cream sauce. Disgusting. I send it back, and reiterate just a simple chicken with white wine and lemon juice.

Fast forward a half hour, and a pretty good imitation of the Asian Madam. The waitress brings over something that looks pretty much like what I had in mind. Bites one and two go OK. Bite number three does not. The chicken yes my friends is RAW. I mean pink and purple holy shit I just bit into a breast implant raw. Under careful scrutinizing with the light from my cell phone, prosector and then waitress confirmed it. That was it! I had had enough and wanted to get the hell out of there. So Mr. snotty country club Mercedes got away without spending a dime on the raw dinner, and I went home and made myself a new dinner. Thank God I didn't get salmonella, as I was pretty worried. Clearly prosecutor took the DO NOT call vibe.

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Some of you may recall that very early on in blog life I posted a pic of a white couch, and spoke about a guy I had met @ a Starbucks whose mom had helped him decorate. While nice, I didn't think we were..OK I KNEW we were not at the same place. We never went out again, and that had to be maybe March?

So imagine my surprise when Friday I received the following email....

"This is couch guy, we met at a Starbucks coffee shop back in winter . Of course, you wanted to pursue other people after we met.

I know, you're probably wondering why I am emailing you. Believe it or not, I told you at the time I wasn't into reading and I remember you do a lot of reading, however, this was in reference to books, not magazines/publications or the internet. I assumed that was the reason for your decision for not pursuing anything further.

For a while now, I have been reading a lot of fantasy/medieval related books, with Forgotten Realms being my favorite. Have you heard of that series?

Today, out of nowhere, I said to myself, who was that person I met who likes to read and I remembered your name.I wanted to touch base with you and see how you are doing. Have you met someone

? Hope to hear from you soon....."

I know some people may not find this that funny but it kinda is. Like hello you must not have liked me cause I didn't read and now I read about wizards so maybe we can date? Ummm I don't think so but I am glad he developed a love for reading!

Ahh the wackos I find, and that find me. Can't live with em, can't blog without them!

Sweet Dreams all!