Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Dating Fiascos - An Introduction

Oh, hey there! I had an idea. It’s probably a terrible idea. In fact, I should probably consider the fact that when I went home to act upon this idea, the internet was down, a sign from the universe that this is, in fact, a truly horribly terrible idea. But instead, I’m going to run with “what the hell” and go ahead and turn this terrible idea into a frighteningly terrible reality. We are rapidly approaching Halloween, after all…

You see, I’m dating. Which, if I’m perfectly honest, is a thing I have actually never done before. I didn't so much date girls as much as I sort of…well…hunted them? Casually stalked my prey until one day we were living together and then it was all sort of “so…I guess you’re my girlfriend?”

Here is the terrible idea: since this blog could use some dusting off, and considering it never really solidly found its identity, why not use it to document my dating adventures?! You do want to know precisely how lesbians go about dating, right? I KNEW IT!

There are some new rules. Since these girls are (mostly) innocent, I’m not going to use their real names. So far, this is going to work out delightfully well, as most of them have some form of identifying nickname in my world anyway. Cute Girl, The Nerd, Baltimore, Double Ex, Ohio, The Hairdresser. See? 

Aside from the millions of things that can go wrong when you start talking about actual people in painfully honest ways. Like, do I have to consider that there’s a possibility one (or several) of them will someday read this? I probably should. I don’t wish to be unkind or unfair, but come on! Some of this stuff makes for some humorous stories! Stories that are practically begging to be told! Or maybe that’s my ego talking, but as I said, “what the hell?” So, we’ll make a rule: if you know the person the story is about, please don’t use their name in any comments. Especially their full name. If the story is about you, then you likely have my number. Feel free to berate me over text, or, hell, even in the comments. I probably deserve it. And, hi! It’s nice to talk to you again!

Now that we’ve gone over the rule, the question becomes where to start. How about at the beginning?

By now we know I’m divorced. We should also note that the girl I dated for the two years after my divorce broke my damn heart. That’s a story for another day. What happened next was this:

I asked out my hairdresser.

Stay tuned...

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