My misadventures on display for all to read.

Dating Chronicles 4 - Normal in Chicago

Jefe, neither balding nor a bowling pirate. Source: Built by CatholicGelt

A few of you made a bet that I would meet a nice guy in Chicago. I'm not one to drag things out so I will just cut to the chase: I had a nice hard apple cider and a three hour conversation with Jefe, a car crash survivor. The normal men I meet are naturally men who overcome great tragedies. It's truly applicable to all the other "normal" in my life. 

Jefe recently moved back to Chicago from NC, by way of Atlanta. He attended Wake Forest where he earned his degrees in accounting. His date idea: Go to the Art Institute and do some of the crafts for kids? Last time I was there they were making hats and I really wanted one! Seriously, is this guy for real? He loves the Talking Heads, has seen David Byrne in concert and thinks Naive Melody is their best song. For real! We walked around the Navy Pier instead since the museum had closed for the day. 

Before we began anything, he escorted me over to an area where a DJ played hip hop music for seven year olds. This had thoroughly entertained Jefe while I was running late and he insisted on showing me. I almost asked if he wanted to dance, but I didn't have the frijoles to do so. I immediately told him I was visiting Chicago to attend classes at Second City and to go to a music festival with friends (yeah, BWS). I can't have men hopelessly falling in love with me and soon finding out that I have ditched them for another city.

Then I noticed that he had a tracheotomy. Using what little filter I have, I did not point it out or stare at it (you are welcome, Enforcer). He ended up talking about how he basically spent the last two years recovering from a car accident where no one else was involved. He had lain in a coma for two weeks, not able to remember how he drove into a tree. When his mother visited him in the hospital, his first smile came from her offer to get Jefe a dog. He started tearing up while telling the story. Or, it was the result of his gin and tonics. I can't really be sure. We talked about movies, music, his next career move and books. He reads. What? Yes, I said he reads. Although amazing male authors abound, I often forget that men read. It's ridiculous and I am not sure where it comes from since I have a degree in English and my advisor was (still is) male. Oh, me!

After about three hours, I told him I had to go home to have dinner. I couldn't think of other questions to ask and he had already ordered two drinks and kept covering his face with his hands when I would tell him something funny or shocking. He said he had a nice time and we hugged one another goodbye. Of course, a man that doesn't make moaning sounds when slamming his body into mine lives in the mid-west. Of course! And I was referring to a hug. You are better than that, my people!

Dating Chronicles 3 - Look Away

Many of you have inquired about my most recent dates. Emailing, calling, and asking about the next man. As you recently heard, a few of the men smoke with babies. Make baby smoke. Smoke and have babies. I am not a fan of smoking babies because it puts tears in my eyes so I decided to not attend the last two dates. However, my neighbor has reassured me that I have a cute nose, mouth and eyes so there are bound to be more opportunities. She is a lovely artist, with a husband and two grown children so I trust her judgement. 

The time of this particular date was right before Swedish Lief and her Man-of-Mystery decided to room with me. I had just started looking for a new roommate on Craigslist which resulted in two guys checking out the apartment. I declared that these thirty minute visits would count as dates so I would only have twelve more to go on in the following five months. This caused backlash from the group of women who handcrafted my account and contract. 

A Woman Betrothed: I do not agree that the Craigslist appointments count as dates.

The Enforcer: I am with a Woman Betrothed. Pease refer to the contract. It requires three votes to make any amendments. At least that was the intent of its authors though only explicitly laid out in the bullet referring to profile changes.

CatholicGelt: Fine. I would like to propose that Freecycle and Craigslist, both <dot>org websites, are equal opportunity platforms for identifying men. I don't want to lose out on any missed connections.

The Enforcer: As long as an actual outing is arranged for purely social purposes (i.e. not apartment visits) then the signers will consider it. But I must bow to the 3/4 majority on this. Ladies?

A Woman Betrothed: I agree that it's fine to find men from other sources, but an actual social outing (i.e., date) must be arranged for it to count.

CatholicGelt: You all are clearly going out on dates, often. I consider 97% of my encounters with the opposite sex as dates. For example, if I am at Whole Foods and the grocer bags my melons, I consider that a night out on the town.

Mère de Fleur: Bagging your melons, CatholicGelt? That sounds pretty intense for a first date if you ask me.  I kind of agree with a Woman Betrothed and the Enforcer, though I do sympathize with your point of view as I averaged about two to three dates every five years in my single days and coming up with twelve in a short period would have seemed totally overwhelming... However, I'm sure it can be done!  Maybe if you and a prospective single male apartment dweller were to meet up for coffee or dinner that might count?

After my friends pummeled me with regulations, I boarded a plane to Chicago where I had signed up for comedy classes at The Second City. Instead of ignoring my dating obligations, I changed the location of my How About We profile to see if I could score a new date or two in Chicago. And then I did!

Dating Chronicles 1 - Fang, the Chiropractor

Reminder: this is the original email post-date.

Fang, the Handsy Chiro. Source: Built by CatholicGelt

Hello Team Amazons!
I write you from the Marriott Hotel lobby at Kendall Square/MIT. Tonight marks the inaugural date for the How About We challenge that my small group in Boston set up for me. Yes, as Swedish Lief pointed out, my all women Bible study group paid for me to start dating. My assessment is that they are looking for very cheap entertainment and now it's time for the monkey to dance.

Meet Fang. According to his profile, he possesses an infatuation for Jewel. That really sold me off the bat, if selling means slightly gagging because you think Jewel is a tool. However, it says that he a is chiropractor and you all know how much I love young, male chiropractors who use their hands a lot (as Fang mentioned on our date). He actually showed intrigue for a date that I posted: How about we… find an arcade and play Big Buck Hunter. 

Instead, we went to a pool hall, played pool and ate BBQ. There was nothing awkward about Fang, at least in our hour and a half encounter. He hugged at the opening, smiled a lot, asked questions and made small talk. I lost all three games so I had to buy drinks and pay for pool. He bought dinner. However, when everything was going fine, as in, I didn't have to be physical or flirty, he went to show me a pool stroke. Yes, I had to bend over, and then he grabbed my right hip and pulled it in toward him. Then he began to playfully insult me, which meant his game got worse. Then he showed me another move that involved touching my hand. The entire time I kept wondering if that would happen. The wondering definitely got addressed. However, knowing me, this meant I acted more like a tomboy than a tomgirl, i.e. my voice dropped and I acted as if I were hanging out with one of the guys. Yeah, I am such a smooth operator.

Monk Francais exposes my inner agony in her Emmy winning performance as Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series.

On our way out, right before we parted ways, is where it gets really interesting. Consider the fact that he is built like a rugby playing bear, he goes in for a hug. He slams his body into mine and then moans. Yes, he moans. I could see my perplexed face as I had a momentary OBE (out of body experience). We held this hug for about ten seconds, which is the same amount of time it takes a tree to grow in Brooklyn, or it feels like forever for those lost in the analogy. While walking away, Fang says, "Let's do something again soon." I gestured for him to write me, as if typing on a keyboard. What? Yes, this was definitely an asexual encounter of the third kind. All in all, I would say that it was a positive experience since I felt comfortable for 95% of it.

Oh, and the guy who cancelled with the flu wrote me back.* We are going out on Monday. And Sunday I am going out with another man. More to come.


My ever seductive How About We profile photo.

My ever seductive How About We profile photo.

*I was supposed to go out on a date, but the guy claimed the flu. I had another date with a different hombre scheduled for that Friday and then a third for that weekend. I may have mastered other areas of my life, but I only possess a GED when it comes to men. That date in kindergarten probably doesn't count.

Tally's Hookers to the Rescue

Last weekend, Monk Francais visited me and Swedish Lief for a three day trip to Montreal. That trip came to a grinding halt in Gloucester, MA, less than 100 miles from home and within AAA free towing limits.


It all began with a late brunch stop over in Newburyport. Swedish Lief witnessed our mixologist pour the vodka for a hefty four seconds before adding the blood orange to my cosmo. Efficient and ideal for a one drink wonder, such as myself. 

After exploring Newburyport, we made our way to the next seaside town. In route, Monk Francais heard a loud grinding near the front, right tire. Playing with death, Swedish Lief violently pumped the breaks three times. That's when the breaks went out completely.

Car still in working order.

Tally's Hookers is a tow truck company that can lift submarines, railway cars, or construction equipment, making our situation look like a first grader's math problem. 

Andrew, our knight in a hoodie sweatshirt, drove the car onto the tow truck, and then the sixty miles to our Boston mechanic.

We rolled into a cell phone dead zone somewhere in Gloucester. Frantically, we divided tasks and tried to find reception. I called the mechanics in Boston. Swedish Lief phoned AAA. Monk Francais researched our next meal. In less than thirty minutes, Tally's Hookers arrived. 

Not an actual reenactment.

Thank the heavens we were only a five minute walk from Halibut Point's oysters and beer, where they charged Swedish Lief $516 for dinner. Any good Jewish Catholic knows an evening spent with Hookers ought to be followed by overpriced shellfish and ale.