Ahhhh, dating.

Well, I suppose it doesn't sound very flattering that the #1 reason I'm glad I'm married is I never have to date again, although my husband and I plan one date night each week - nights we look forward to because events are delightfully predictable. Rarely are there surprises, and trust me, that suits me just fine. We don't equate familiarity with ennui. The aphrodisiac lies in unconditional security, trust, abiding adoration, love, and (ahem) eternal lust.

I have a dear friend who moved a great distance away several years ago. *sigh* Though she suffered a painful divorce, she recovered, and I swear to you, has the near perfect life albeit she longs for companionship. At least she used to.

Heather, I kid you not, is drop-dead gorgeous in the cliched manner - on the outside and inside. She has a stellar career, a beautiful home, and two charming grown sons who are independent of her. She is worldly, yet down-to-earth. She’s sophisticated yet humble, and she stirs up fabulous gourmet meals with ease. She is the farthest thing from a gold-digger, because she is golden. She’s quite a catch.

I should add that the usual disclaimers apply here: Heather has ‘signed off’ on this post because I’ve used fictitious names and locales – otherwise I might need to enter the witness protection program.

A few weeks ago we chatted and she told me about her most recent blind date.

She lives in Chicago (heh) – her date was a doctor (pediatrician and allergist) from a very, very upscale suburb.

It all started with an initial phone call that lasted for an hour. His closing remarks referenced the expense of the lengthy chat. Hmmm, my friend wondered – a petite red flag. It was determined they would go to dinner – his choice of an exquisite restaurant sounded appealing to her, kinda swept her up, so to speak, let her forget his tightwad remark about the lengthy phone call.

Alas, upon his arrival to pick her up for their glamorous evening, he slyly announced with feigned embarrassment that he had forgotten his wallet at home and his gas tank was empty – could she fill his tank, pay for dinner, and he would reimburse her?

It was at this point I rudely interrupted her story and screamed with veins bulging from my neck, “That’s when you shoulda fallen to the floor writhing in pain with a fake appendicitis attack.” Dunno, always worked for me.

Much to my surprise (never forget that this woman is very bright), she complied, but was clever enough to suggest a more modestly priced restaurant as their destination.

Oh, I forgot to mention that he insisted he pick her up at her home. This is a big no-no, but she relented because her son was going to be there. By the way, when the date arrived, Heather’s son stood behind him and gave a ‘negatory’ signal. He knew from the get-go the guy was creepy.

Heather described her date as 6’, a nice build, nice looking, a nice head of hair, nicely dressed, and nicely intelligent. I said, “Yeah, nice. So was Ted Bundy.”

Dinner conversation was fairly successful despite his pathetic whining that his mother had been an agoraphobic during her final years, and that his father had left his mother for another man. Hmmmm, she thought. Trying to lighten-up the get-to-know-you chatter, Heather inquired about the wildest and craziest thing he had ever done. His response, and I directly quote, “I hammered a woman against a tree and fucked her brains out.”

Well! That certainly was the moment I would have collapsed in a heap with a pretend aneurysm. That always worked for me, too. Besides, yawn-yawn – she asked for something wild and crazy.

Okay. So after dinner they headed for Heather’s home – they both toted containers with leftovers. Damn Heather’s impeccable manners – she invited him in though she was desperate to be rid of him.

After she put her leftovers in the fridge, he suggested that the boxes had been confused. So he took the leftovers to his car while also retrieving his laptop. Now get this, you ain’t gonna believe it. He wanted to read his father’s eulogy to her. So she settled in the living room and awaited his return. She heard the fridge door open and close as he purportedly put her leftovers back in.

After he read his father’s eulogy, he then read his mother’s. Arghhhh. About this time I would have feigned a seizure, hysterical blindness, small pox, or set my hair on fire.

Okay. This is the best part. The next day when Heather went to the fridge to retrieve her leftovers to feed to her dogs, there were no leftovers. HE TOOK HERS!

Omigod. Is that the date from hell or what?

A few weeks later he called (mind you, he had not yet sent a check to her) and asked if she wanted to get back together – like they had been in a relationship, for petie-pie-sakes. Her marvelous response was, “Why? Are you hungry?”

In a delightful example of when children start parenting parents, Heather’s son has grounded her – voted all dates off the island. And I insist on screening all future dates – they have to fly to Fallbrook first so I can check them out. But I tell ya, I don’t know if my intuitions can be trusted. I kissed a lot of toads before I met my prince.

Don’t give up dear-heart. And try not to feel lonely, because there are so many people who love you so very much. xoxo