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Breaking my own rule

August 9, 2006 By pia

Moved the dawg and the Bone sentences up to the new post

Oh I was never a rules person. If I wanted to I did, if I didn’t I didn’t. So was it on the third date or if the third date went well? Honestly can’t remember.

Seventeen years ago I had two dates with a friend of some friends. The third date rule was big then. He wanted to do it on the first date. I told him that maybe someday it might happen. On our second date we went to see a movie and then we were going to to do dinner.

We had to wait on line, outside in the cold, before the movie. He had a cold, and his eyes were red, but worse snot was running down his nose and he didn’t have tissues. I did, but it was too late. No way would I go out to dinner with him or see him again.

In the interim, he married, moved to LA, and was divorced. Somebody gave him my cell number, a closely guarded secret only given to a select few, and told him that I would be in California. I somewhat reluctantly agreed to go out to dinner with him last night. Since I knew we weren’t going to go to The Ivy, I wore black jeans, a black tee, red and black sandals and a denim jacket.

He inspected me as if I were a race horse, and told me that I had gained weight but looked good. All he wanted to talk about was how well he was doing, and how I have a great blog but am getting on in years and should have had my book published by now.

There was much I could have said about his appearance, his demeanor, lack of sense of humor or any saving graces. I didn’t.

After dinner he asked if I wanted to go back to my motel or to his new bachelor pad. Yes he said that, not even crib which still would have made me cringe, but…. I had visions of strobe lights, dimmers, wall to wall carpeting going over the built in furniture. I’m sure it doesn’t look like that. When I said no, he looked at me and said:
“But it’s our third date.”

And that’s just one of the reasons I’m a born-again-virgin.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

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Comments

  1. Bone says

    August 9, 2006 at 10:49 am

    Hmm interesting. I never knew about the third date rule. Probably explains a lot.

    Although I had my own sort of third date rule. If we hadn’t kissed by then, it probably wasn’t going to happen.

    Only happened, or didn’t happen, once. Three dates. No labium to labium contact. No fourth date.

  2. frstlymil says

    August 9, 2006 at 7:09 pm

    Okay, can I just say, EW!!!!! Just, Ew. There are so many of his kind here in L.A. First hint – he was taking you to the IVY – no cool people go there other than celebrities desperate for coverage, wannabes – and the food just isn’t that good. Spanish Kitchen maybe, hell, even Real Food Daily –
    He felt it okay to comment on both your age and weight – two things I expect from an agent of on-camera talent or a casting director in a work situation, which is rude enough – but on a date with someone you’re hoping to get lucky with? Ew.
    When he said, “but it’s our third date” you were perfectly within appropriate boundaries (since he had none) to say, “If you want to get laid, go call someone with no self esteem. Hell, go call a hooker. But you are way out of your league with someone like me.”

  3. bonnie says

    August 9, 2006 at 8:48 pm

    EEEEEEK!

    too funny too funny FAR too funny!

  4. dan says

    August 9, 2006 at 10:40 pm

    Wow. Just wow.

    You always hear about this sort of thing happening. But then it actually, really happens to someone you know.

    Excuse me. Even at 1500 miles away from the guy I feel the need to shower.

  5. Bone says

    August 9, 2006 at 11:35 pm

    PS: I think you should have gone back to the bachelor pad. Not for 3rd date business, just to see what it looked like.

    Was he in the Village People? Wait, don’t answer that. It’ll spoil the mental image I have.

  6. g says

    August 9, 2006 at 11:37 pm

    Yes the lights dim, the Girl from Ipanema plays softly (okay, I’m borrowing from Waynes’ World)… Further proof that some rules are just made, no they scream to be broken. Good call.

  7. steve says

    August 10, 2006 at 1:50 am

    Yeah… 17 hours of labor so far and no baby… with 32 plus hours of no sleep. And after I read this, I’d jump in the Hummmer, spend a fortune on gas to drive 700 plus miles round trip to beat his ass for you! Just say the word pia… and I am off the chain…. grrrrr!!! 🙂

  8. cooper says

    August 10, 2006 at 10:32 am

    “I have a dawg and I have a Bone.”

    I should be so lucky.

  9. neva says

    August 12, 2006 at 1:48 am

    the fact that he was a “snot-nosed stud wanna be” years ago should have been your first clue to avoid him now! still… i can’t blame ya for being curious, but i sure as hell applaud you for shutting him down. “batchelor pad”?? gimme a break. no wonder he’s divorced! xox

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About Me

I live in the South, not South Florida, a few blocks from the ocean, and two blocks from the main street. It's called Main Street. Amazes me too.

I'm from New York. I mostly lived in the Mid-Upper East Side, and the heart of the Upper West Side. It amazes me when people talk about how scared they were of Times Square in the 1970's and 1980's.

As my mother said: "know the streets, look out and you'll be fine."

What was scary was the invasion of the crack dens into "good buildings in good 'hoods." And the greedy landlords who did everything they could to get good tenants out of buildings.

I'm a Long Island girl, and proud of it now.
Then I hated everything about the suburbs. Yet somehow I lived in a few great Long Island Sound towns after high school.

Go to archives "August 2004" if you want to begin with the first posts.

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