Dump the Bastard, Already!

Love, Self

What makes a bad date? What makes it worse?

The morning of our second date we met for coffee and took a twelve mile bike ride. It was very difficult getting there at all seeing I had only two hours of sleep and left PJ in my bed with a promise he'd wait for me. While I enjoyed the day in the sun and the exercise, I did note that Dale had a habit of pointing out flaws in people. This was particularly true of women.

“Did you happen to notice that couple who walked by us?” Dale called out as we biked along Washington Park.

“No, I don’t know who you mean.” This was the third or fourth time Dale had seen someone he wanted to point out to me so he could criticize them.

DALE: “The mismatched couple with the fit man and the fat woman?”

ME: I wasn’t terribly surprised by this, even though I had no idea who he was referring to. “Uh, no. I missed that.”

DALE: “Whether because of baby weight or some other reason, a woman gets into a relationship and just lets herself go. A shame, really.”

I could hear the disgust in his voice. This woman had purposely set out to ruin her relationship with the fit man who loved her. How could she be so cruel?

ME: “Maybe the guy she is with likes bigger women.”

DALE: “No, I could tell he doesn’t.”

Even though he annoyed me for most of the morning, I felt compelled . . . .

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