Many of you have been asking whatever happened on my date with the serial killer in Brooklyn. Fortunately, I’m alive to tell the story.
For those of you joining late, a couple of weeks ago I had a very hot date in NYC. Literally. It was 90 degrees and he suggested I meet him at an outdoor cafe. I got pit stains and stuck to the seat, but he later explained that he chose the place because he looks more mature with a sweatstache. Fair enough.
Per the terms and conditions of our date contract, he promised not to chop me up into little pieces if I promised to do shots of tequila with him. I was pleased to see that he delivered on the tequila immediately upon my arrival.
Admittedly I did not hold up my end of the bargain. I arrived in major violation of the High Maintenance Clause (HMC), as the only thing I’d eaten that day were pretzel rods (otherwise known as the breakfast of champions). Fortunately I don’t think he noticed, or perhaps he was just so mesmerized by my cheek bones that he was willing to overlook it. Either way, I was immediately buzzed, which worked to his advantage: with a little tequila in me I found myself far more willing to discuss his puppy’s achievements in doggie day care.
When the waitress delivered our check he offered to pay without hesitation. (I had told him that my ATM card was stolen en route to the airport, which of course was an elaborate rouse, but a highly successful one.)
As for additional details about the date, I’m afraid that the NDA prevents me from elaborating. But I will tell you that the next day I received this message:
“Yo, D! Although inefficient (I did have to get my lawyer involved), solid make out session last night. I hope that someday I can be more than just content to you.”
Mantastic. But at the same time, puts me at a difficult crossroads. See, after a series of failed long distance relationships, the Disaster Administration has instituted a firm policy with regards to interstate dating. Simply put: “think globally, love locally.” Rats.
That said, I find this situation highly unique and, under the careful guidance of our attorneys, would be willing to consider the following (earmuffs, mother):
Rat, if you’re reading this, I invite you to join me for dinner at one of the finest establishments in the city of Chicago. I already know that you love the Midwest and its sweeping urban flatscapes, so I don’t think this should be a hard sell. I’ll meet you here:
I suggest you pack your sweatstache.
