Ummmmm.

Maybe he was nervous, maybe he lacked the skill to detect my boredom, the expression of which became increasingly obvious as the seconds ticked on. I'm pretty certain that the table of designer denim clad Middle Easterners picked up on it, at least I think that's why they kept winking at me whenever I looked over his shoulder. Each time he committed a new transgression against my apparently subconscious list of things not to say on a date I would consider how many of said transgressions I would find tolerable and in what combination. Would, "I got a lot of pussy in college because I could play Dave Matthews on the guitar" be acceptable if it wasn't preceded by an enthusiastic double chest pump when mentioning his victorious high school track team championship. Might I not care that he lives at home with ma and pa if he hadn't spent two hours talking about law school and its rigors. Did I fail to mention that we never even ordered dinner or even had drinks, he was too busy talking about himself and his amazing accomplishments. So when he suggested we continue the evening elsewhere, I shamelessly told him I had to take my dog for a walk. Thank God I have a dog. For a moment I wanted to feel bad for so obviously rejecting him but on my three mile drive home I convinced myself otherwise.

This is what I wore, for what it's worth. Kind of a shapeless tent but at least I suffered comfortably.



This is what I made to eat when I came home.