My Third Date with #17

He bought me flowers.  Flowers!  The timing of their presentation, however, was rather problematic in that I’d just asked, “So, how was your day?” only to be led to a table in the back of the sushi restaurant marked “reserved” upon which a bottle of wine and the bright pink bouquet were waiting.  When faced…

The Mystery Man Revealed

I know what you’re all wondering.  After reading about the careful construction of my thirtieth date outfit, my discussion of Austen over pancakes and my decision to accompany my evidently enlightened mystery man for a stroll through The Piazza, you’re just dying to know, “But what about your thoughts on the history of tap dancing…

Thirtieth Time’s a Charm, Part Duex

And so to continue with my thirtieth date: although I’d be much fonder of brunch if it was socially acceptable to drink raspberry chocolate martinis at 11:00am, the menu at Honey’s proved to be more than tolerable.  After some deliberation, we both selected the whole wheat berry granola pancakes and, in accordance with acceptable Saturday…

Thirtieth Time’s a Charm

I have a confession to make: Monday morning’s post took me a rather long time to write—three days, in fact— because the men in my life refuse to let me finish writing about them before they make their next moves.  I really wish they would stop doing this.  Don’t they understand the basic conventions of…

Based Loaded

It’s Monday, October 25th.  This means that I am exactly one week away from the end of my Match.com experiment.  As I’ve no plans to renew my subscription (who knew dating 17 different men could be so exhausting?), I have just seven days in which to find myself a date to the Annual Hooper’s Island…

Twenty Nine Dates

Last night’s dinner with Date #17 brings the grand total up to 29 dates.  And seeing as the Man from Marshalls has already invited me to “hang out” after work, it looks as though I’ll be coming to the end of my official thirty-date experiment in just a few hours.  That said, I feel that…

A Familiar Feeling

The morning after Date #17 takes me for dinner in Center City, I awake with a familiar feeling.  Being that it’s been some time since I’ve been on a first date, however—let alone a first date to a Steven Starr restaurant—I can’t quite place it. Is it a crush?  Date #17 is awfully cute—much cuter…

Trouble in Camelot

I’ve reached the five-date mark with the Man from Marshalls and despite the fairy-tale encounter that gave birth to our relationship, there’s trouble in Camelot.  I won’t go into the details (at last not all of them, seeing as there’s an actual human being on the end of this equation who may or may not…