A Tale of Three Dates

Being single is by definition, a very independent way to live one's life. I like not having anyone to answer to. I like my life being all mine. I like that my friendships do not suffer because I suddenly start spending every waking moment with my boyfriend. When you enter into a relationship, quite often, your other relationships suffer because your attention is so focused on this other person. I get that. I've been there. I hope never to be there again, however. I think it's so important, as with everything else in life, to have balance. Where's the mystery if you're always together? Sometimes it can be fun to miss that person. Sometimes it can be fun to just be with yourself and remember that you are good with or without someone else to tell you that they love you. Sometimes, it's vital to remind yourself about the person you were before your significant other entered the picture. Of course this is all very easy to say, being that I am single. I may sing a very different tune when and if the man of my dreams suddenly appears through the ether of the internet... Unfortunately for me, but fortunately for all of you, he still remains an anomaly. The last three dates I have gone on have been interesting, entertaining, even hot. But none of them have been the kind that stick. Date #1) "Where is it???" So, Craig and I met online and had a really nice rapport. He was sarcastic and charming. Upfront without being abrasive and very funny. There was just one thing about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on. He admitted to having a third nipple. Since he was so free about it, I felt that I could ask some questions. Me: "Really? Is it like a little nubbin or is it like the other two...areola and all?" Craig: "It looks exactly like the other two." Me: "Where is it?" Craig:"I'm not going to tell you." Of course, this completely weirded me out while intriguing me all the more. I HAD to go out with this guy. If only to see the nipple. Friends challenged me to "take one for the team" and sleep with him so that I could see it and preferably, get photographic evidence. While I had no intention of taking things that far, I still showed up for the date, dreading it a little and wondering if I would cast my gaze on his oddity. We met at a really great little art bar near my house. When I arrived, I was pleasantly surprised. Craig was much better looking in person than in his pictures. This is very rare, so I was thrilled. He was very well dressed, smooth and we both ordered Jameson. Things were off to a good start! That nipple was as good as mine! (Out of context, that's a pretty funny thing to say.) We found a spot in the back, settled in and started talking. We had a great time, quite a few drinks and lots of lively conversation. I almost forgot about the third nipple, but suddenly, the whiskey kicked in and my tongue got loose. Me: "Sooo, wait...can we talk about your third nipple?" Craig: *blank stare* Me: "I mean, where is it?" Craig: "I'm not going to tell you." Me: "Awwww...Come on." Craig: "No." It was time to go home. Craig insisted on walking me home, which was very nice of him. We got to my door and proceeded to have a very hot make out session on the steps. I sent him home, alone, and went upstairs to curse the fact that I liked a guy with three nipples. He sent me a text to say thank you...and then I never heard from him again. I don't get it. Did I ask too many questions about the nipple? Was he afraid that I was just another girl who wanted him for his nipples? Date #2) "Oh hell, I'll admit it. I'm a ho." Mike, as he will be known, was a good looking guy. The funny part is that we met on a dating site, but we had seen each other while I was on the date with Craig (see above). Mike had been at the same very small bar that night with some friends and we had each noticed each other. Strangely enough while chatting online, we didn't recognize each other from pictures. But we eventually deduced that he was "the guy with the arms!" and I was the "girl in the black dress!" from the other night. We decided to meet at that same bar for a drink. When he arrived, he looked good but seemed kind of awkward. I soon realized that he was missing a tooth and had a pretty significant lisp. He seemed like a nice enough guy that these tawdry details were worth getting past. Eventually, he started to open up. He admitted to having a "stick up his ass." He then volunteered that he was rather sexually experienced. "Oh hell, I'll admit it. I'm a ho." This admission was shortly followed by an even more puzzling one. "I was a virgin until I was 30." I guess he felt the need to make up for lost time. When I asked him why he had been a virgin for so long, his answer was perfection. "Well, I haven't always been this hot." Charming. This date ended shortly thereafter, not surprisingly. Date #3) Kid with a Car Darren, as he will be known, is 26. I am 32. I've pretty much sworn off younger men, after two highly unfortunate experiences with two 21 year olds in the span of two weeks. A year ago. (I know. I know.) But, Darren was highly accomplished, well spoken, thoughtful and got my sarcasm. So, I figured it couldn't hurt to give him a shot. The date itself was fairly innocuous. We had drinks at Docs Clock, he kicked my ass at Connect Four, and we talked. Really, he talked. A lot. But, the thing about Darren was his car. He drove a brand new Porsche. What 26 year old drives a Porsche? Not only that, but he had a matching Porsche visor and towel in his car. (See picture above). Are there women out there who find this sort of thing attractive? I find it hilarious. So, I remain committed to my independence, my singularly happy existence of friends and family, work and play. As for sex and romance, it's back to the drawing board, people. It's tough out there.

About the Author

Amber Milner is an independent lifestyle advocate!