F@%k It Friday: Dating

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My husband and I lived apart in 2000-2001 before we were married. I tried to date and I failed miserably. So did Ken, thank god. We are perfect for one another. Socially inept and lazy. If I had to jump into the dating pool at my current age, I would die a spinster with a ton of cats. I’m just THAT BAD at making small talk and trying to pretend that you’re an interesting guy. You’re not. Now buy me dinner. I like steak, crème brûlée, and fruity drinks.

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Back when I was single, I went out a few times with a cop. I know, I know. Shut up.

This guy drove a Cadillac from the 70s and I’m pretty sure he referred to himself as ‘money’. There was one night when we went to a place called Sabatino’s on the northwest side of Chicago. They have the best chicken parm — and that’s a #fact. I’ll go there with anyone. I’m easy like that.

During the course of the date, I called this guy “Jason” about 15 times even though his name was “Bill.”

He was not happy. Around the 16th time, he told me so.

I’m like, Oh, hey, sorry about that. Can you just pretend your name is Jason? This date will go a lot easier.

It never got better.

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Give me your worst date story. I gotta hear it.

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