What do ladies who brunch talk about? Dating. Duh. This story from one bruncher takes the coffee cake, so to speak, so we thought we would share with the 3 people who read this blog. As an FYI - we’ll be posting more brunch topics, stories of interest, and pictures here. We promise. For now, relish in the fact that this did not happen to you:

Michelle is about to embark on date #2 with Andy. Michelle and Andy met on Match.com. Date #1 was an overwhelming success. Michelle expects date #2 to go swimmingly. Michelle is wrong. So. fucking. wrong.

Michelle: So I get to his house and he says he wants to take me out to sushi via a walk in the park. Sounds great. I like sushi and I like parks. We get to sushi and it is a cool place. Things are going well. We order the sushi and he indicates that he can not have any cucumbers in the sushi. This is odd - but I overlook it. First plate comes - cucumbers everywhere. We send it back. No less than 4 waiters come to apologize. Second plate gets there - spicy tuna rolls with an unnecessary, yet otherwise inconsequential amount of greenery in it for color I guess. He picks a part each roll using a combination of chopsticks and index fingers until not one spec of green is left in it. Wonder what his Jewish mother would say about that.

We order drinks. He orders a beer, and I order “The Perfect Gin Cocktail” off the menu. We order more drinks but before I can order another little bit of perfection (the menu didn’t lie) my picky eater takes my hand and says, “maybe you should switch to beer, I only have so much money budgeted for this evening.” (Taking my hand makes it sounds a little more gentle. My hand was raised in the “I’d like another” position and he grabbed it and pulled it to the table.)

SIDE NOTE: Michelle’s birthday was earlier in the week and Andrew had mentioned that this was a birthday dinner.

I excuse myself and go to the bathroom and shake it off. (This is where me being a little insecure and too accommodating really bites me in the ass. I should have just called it a night after dinner. Better yet, I should have jumped out of the window in the bathroom.)

I come back, order 4 more Stellas all at once with a smirk, and we finish dinner ($20 under budget, mind you.)

We stroll through the park and get back to his place and begin making out. I figured if I couldnt have more gin, I would have some making out. Things escalate, the 4 Stellas turn into a bad decision, and there I am about to sleep with Mr. Budget. Whatever. A girl needs to get some every now and then and I wasn’t 100% sold on the fact that he was no good. He has good biceps. That’s enough sometimes. We start getting it on and in true American Pie style, about 1 min. and 30 seconds in,  he screams “OMG you are too hot, I can’t do this!” and cums immediately.

So I’m lying there a little pissed (but flattered) thinking round 2 would be better. He gets up, explains that I am welcome to spend the night and leaves the room to pop an AMBIEN. He comes back, says good night to his cat, gets in bed, turns his back to me and passes the fuck out. There is zero. ZERO cuddling, spooning, anything. ZERRRROOOO.

By now, I am raging but I am too drunk to realize that I could just leave and he would never know thanks to his prescription sleep aid. I fall asleep and wake up to him shaking me at 8:00 in the morning (IT IS SUNDAY) saying he is hungry. We go get food. Don’t ask me why I stuck around. I am still trying to figure it out myself. I order a crepe. He orders an omelet, pancakes, and a smoothie. Then he tells me he blew his budget on dinner last night and asks if I can pick up the tab.

I leave.

A minor detail that I didn’t fit in above: he owns a cat. He wants another. this would make him a single male dual cat owner.

I couldn’t even make this shit up. So yeah. No third date.