Saint Sarge...

... the patron saint of single men who've decided that dating is about as much fun as giving yourself a vasectomy with a chainsaw. Okay, a little too wordy to fit on a medallion and i'm sure anyone reading this probably injured yourself, laughing at the thought of me being called St. Anything. But after chatting with Cap'n D yesterday i came to the conclusion that joining a monastery may not be such a bad alternative. And since everybody else there is probably non-competitive, i figure i'd could get ahead pretty quick.

Why this latest conclusion? Saturday night i had one of "those" dates, which I'm sharing with you all in the hopes that you can paint your own mental picture and hopefully have a good laugh. Since that would mean SOMETHING positive occured from it.

We "met" thru an online dating site. Seemed okay: pretty, a doctor, a few years older than me so she should have her shit together, etc. Talked on the phone a few times, seemed very nice, laid back, kind of quiet, smart, likes to travel, definately not a Type A.

Apparently while i was on the phone, Murphy snuck in and sedated her. Heavily.

So we decide to get together Saturday. In Nashville, which is the most convienient place to meet as she lives in the stix in TN, and there's plenty to do there. She seemed a little miffed that i didn't call early in the week to make plans (even though i emailed her, to which she did respond), and apparently she needs hours & hours to get ready. I offered to wait until the following weekend, she said it would be alright, so plans were made. At THIS point, i should have followed my gut and called it off. But if i had, you wouldn't be snickering right now, would you?
After the 2 hour drive from my house (at least it's very pretty scenery), i find the small, nice restaurant where she made reservations. Go inside, we meet in person and are seated. This my friends is the last positive thing that happened for the evening (our table was ready). Other than getting out of town still alive and staying awake thru the drive home.

I'll spare you the details, but about 3 minutes after we sat down i wanted to leave. Apparently she skipped the day in med school where they went over how the human ear functions, and that sound travels just fine in air. She was so much louder in person her voice sounded like someone else. And by the way, those of you that think i wave my hands a lot when i talk? Not even close. And not while trying to make a point; everything she said looked like Mickey Mouse casting spells in Fantasia. Big enough that the ladies sitting at the table next to us looked concerned about getting smacked. To which my date asked them why they were looking at her so disgustedly. Followed by them looking at me sympathetically.
Pretty much that's how things went. I later realized who she reminded me of, in mannerisms and such. If you haven't seen it in a while (or ever), put the 1st Deuce Bigalow movie in your Netflix cue. The girl he goes out with that had Tourettes? Yup; take away the uncontrolled outbursts and *blammo* my date. Oh, and notice i didn't say take away the vulgarity. During her (lengthy) discourse on why socialized medicine is a bad idea (to be fair, she is smart), the word "fuck" graced the restaurant about a dozen times, easily loud enough to be heard in the parking lot.
And since i'd just dropped way too much money and was clinging to hope that the evening wasn't a total wash, i agreed to go find a band to listen to. Which I lucked out in that she made a good choice. These guys are a funk band and are fantastic. Their shows are easily as entertaining as a Funkle gig, though harder to dance to. The story goes that are professional/famous musicians, though being wrapped up like mummies hides their identities and they just get to play. Check them out if you have a chance. I enjoyed them. Well, as much as i could. Beer would have taken out the sting though complicated the drive home, so i only had tap water to console me. At least the band drowned out her voice. All that left were the mannerisms. I mean, MD's in their mid-30's shouldn't be imitating how someone is standing (and pointing that out!!!) like they're 7 years old, right? At least not on a 1st date...

So i hope i've brought a smile to your face. I'm not quite ready to join the monastery, though i'm close. and sure it's all a game, and DAMN did i get pwned...