It’s the ultimate goal. What we all look for in a potential partner. Sure everyone will tell you they are looking for someone with a good personality and treats them right, but deep down they’re looking for someone with two qualities: Rich and Beautiful.
After a long streak of unsuccessful dates and horror stories that originated on Tinder, I decided to upgrade and try my luck on Hinge. Here I came across a beautiful woman with blonde hair and blue eyes (my weakness). We matched and through our chat I learned that she was finishing up med school and getting ready to start an apprenticeship in Cardiology. That’s right, not only was she a doctor, she was going to be a Cardiologist. We decide to take this to the next level and meet in person for drinks.
Sure the future career was a major turn on for me, but it had to be about more than money. I promised myself that I would look past her career and looks to focus on her personality. I just knew one thing was certain: if this date went well, I was retiring Monday morning. Let’s face it, I wasn’t exactly pleased with my career choice during this time and even if I stuck it out the field of advertising doesn’t usually pay Cardiologist money. This was huge for me.
I had to make a good impression. I invited her to an upscale rooftop bar with a great view of the sunset. Classy date calls for classy attire, so I wear a blazer. Floss twice. Brush three times. And can you smell that? That’s Dolce Blue baby. We’re ready.
She says she’s riding with friends and asks if I have friends for her friends. This is a problem. I don’t have friends mature enough to hang with doctors. Even if I did, I already broke up with all of them in preparation for my new lifestyle with the rich and famous. I just tell her their busy.
Don’t want to be late, so I get there early. Early enough to feel the raindrops start to fall. The sky is about to open up and there’s no inside to this place. Need a new place fast. I call her and tell her we need to move and she suggests another bar, I blindly say yes. I start walking towards the new rendezvous spot and I see Google maps says it’s a little over 1 mile away. Not usually a problem, but it’s about to rain, it’s still Florida hot, and I’m wearing a blazer. I pick up the pace. That pre-rain breeze is bitch slappin my hair into submission. I’m drenched in sweat and contemplating giving my down jacket of a blazer to a homeless person, but he doesn’t deserve that, his life is already tough enough as it is.
I get there, luckily still before she arrives. I head straight to the bathroom and look in the mirror to see the damage that’s been done. Oh sweety we have some work to do. My neat haircut was blown into a Mohawk and I’m covered in sweat. I manage to control the beast on my head, but it’s never going to be the same, at least not in time for this date. There’s no paper towels so I have to wipe myself down with toilet paper. At least the jacket is there to cover the sweat marks.
I walk out of the bathroom just as she walks in. I order us drinks and we walk over to a table. I wish I could tell you she thought my recent journey was funny. I wish I could tell you this date went well. But the good guy doesn’t always win at the end of the story. There were so many awkward silences, none of my jokes landed, and it seemed like we had nothing in common. It got so uncomfortable that at one point she even said “You look uncomfortable”. Yeah of course I’m uncomfortable. I’m still out of breath and sweaty from the death race I just ran to get here.
Needless to say that date did not go well and there was not a second date. For that reason, I am still working full time and still Sexless in Seattle.