The pretty girl that you've been dating...

So, earlier tonight, Uncle Polt had a date.

I KNOW!

It's been like....2 and half, three years since I've been on a real date (course, during most that time I was seeing Freddie, thus making a date rather impractical and unnecessary). We both go to the same hairdresser, and she set us up.

A blind date set up by your hairdresser....I could have FAG tattooed in 4 inch high pink letters on my forehead with a rhinestone border and I couldn't be any more gay than that.

His name was Arnie. He's a nice guy. We had a very nice meal, and very pleasant conversation. But there were no sparks, no chemistry. Course has my great aunt Blanche always says, "You simply can NOT have too many gay friends."

I had several topics and questions in my mind, just in case there was an awkward silence. But I never had to use them. He was quite the talker...I now know way more about the man's kids than anyone other than their physician or thier attorney ought to know. And yet, I still haven't discovered exactly what it is he does for a living. I know where he works, and where his part time job is. But I don't what he does. And I know more about his ex-wife and ex-partner than i really needed to learn on a first date.

Still, don't get me wrong, I did have a good time. And we'll probably go to get something to eat again, if we're too busy over the holidays, sometime in January then. We already have the restaurant picked out.

I chose spaghetti to eat...what the HELL was I thinking? There's no way to really eat spaghetti without either making a mess ON yourself or making a fool OF yourself. I don't believe I did too bad on either count though.

The worst part of the whole date was, I had terrible gas the whole...entire...time! Nothing....leaked out, there were no surprise exhalations, but the less said about that the better.
Oh well, at least my tummy's full and I had a fun time. That's all the really matters, right?

POLT

Listening to "When Dove's Cry" by Quindon Tarver