50 Years and Counting

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I have coffee every morning at my gym with a group of retirees.  Last week, one of them mentioned he was taking his wife out to dinner to celebrate 55 years of marriage.

“Aw, you’re just a kid,” said another. “My wife and I are celebrating 62 years this August.”

“I’m getting close to celebrating 50 years myself,” said another.

There was silence as the group, who’ve known each other for years, exchanged puzzled looks. 

“Well, I mean, 50 years if you count them all up consecutively,” said the guy.

 I cracked up. Turns out he’s been married four times. “Just so you know,” I said, “That 50 years doesn’t count.”

“Time served is time served,” he said.

I love morning coffees.

Cheers,

Dena

The Dating Diaries: Splitting Hairs (and Checks)

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I love that when I blog about anything other than the guys I’ve dated, all anyone asks me is, “When are you going to post another Dating Diaries entry? We love those!” Never mind I’m beingattacked by serpent reptiles and have embarked on a new spiritual/emotional/mental connection to running. You want bad date stories. The people have spoken. Let’s do this.

Today’s installment really isn’t on “bad” dates. In fact, I’m still friends with most of the men the following snippets are about. These are more or less those small things that make you go, “Hmmm…”

OVERLY EXCITED GUY

This was a one-time date with someone who was way too young for me. I think he was 36 and not the brightest bulb in the box. Which fact I didn’t clue into until after we had agreed to meet. I knew I was courting trouble when I began to notice that this guy (kid) got really, really, really excited whenever we had the smallest match on interests. Our texts began to resemble this

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The Dating Diaries: My First Stalker

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In today’s episode of The Dating Diaries, we explore the exciting world of mentally imbalanced and emotionally unstable individuals. Yippee!

There are a few truths that need to be put forth.

1. “Stalker” is probably too strong a word for what I’m about to describe, but it got you reading, so mission accomplished.
2. That being said, I was nervous enough about the situation to consider getting a gun, an updated alarm entry system or at least a more aggressive cat.
3. My stalker wasn’t a guy. It was a woman.

    Oh, BOOM on that last one. Didn’t see it coming did you?

    It’s true. While I have yet to rate my first male stalker (I’m biding my time—it’s coming), about three months into the dating scene I did have my very own female stalker.

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    The Dating Diaries: Gum Guy

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    When people ask me about my worst date (And they always want to hear about the bad ones. No one wants to hear, “We went to dinner and had a really nice time.”), “Gum Guy,” or GG as I call him, always comes to mind.

    We met online and he sent a couple of snarky texts that made me laugh. But alarm bells must have gone off somewhere because when he suggested we meet for dinner, I downgraded it to meeting for a drink.

    We met at one of my favorite upscale bar/restaurants. I arrived first. GG texted he was running late—uh, leave your house on time, buddy—so I went ahead and ordered my drink. Belvedere vodka martini, extra dry, three olives.

    When he arrived, I kinda sorta recognized him from his photo. Recognized in the way you can see glimpses in the paunchy man standing in front of you at your 20th class reunion of the boy who sat next to you in science lab in junior high school. Not a recent photo then. Okay.

    He swaggered (and yes, that is the correct word), into the bar...

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