Corner Booth

I have long realized and documented the fact that I do not want to meet my next romantic interest while in a bar. Call me old fashioned but I don't like the idea of spending the rest of my life with someone I met seven beers and half a pack of smokes into a Friday night while listening to a cover band attempt to play "Brown Eyed Girl," and being sardined in, crotch to ass, with 100 strangers singing the wrong lyrics at the top of their lungs. Unfortunately this mindset often leaves me in the corner of said bar critiquing the hell out of said band and trying as hard as possible not to make eye contact with any of the classy ladies in the front trying desperately to get the band's attention because, in their drunken eyes, the hacks on stage are like the second-coming of Van Morrison.

I was recently verbalizing these concerns with my friends Mike and Kristina while enjoying some tasty boneless wings and Miller Lite big guys at the local B-Dubs. After much deliberation I decided that I would love to meet someone at the Art Museum, with the assumption that that girl would be somewhat cultured and educated. I immediately realized that this plan is inherently flawed. First of all, I could never drag any of my buddies to an Art museum. Kristina offered to go with me, but walking around with a female would completely destroy any "game" I may pretend to have. Secondly, anyone I would meet there may be way more intelligent than I am. Don't get me wrong, I would have no problem dating someone like this, except that the last girl I seriously dated (back when Moses was still in high school) was way smarter than me and let me know it whenever she got the chance...just makes me a little gun-shy about the intellectuals.

Next I thought maybe I would want to just be fixed up with friends of friends. This scenario is also scary as Hell, though cuz there's always the chance that your blind date could be WAY out of your league and that's just awkward. Then there's all the expectations and trying to be overly-smooth. That always makes it feel like more work than it's worth.

Finally, I realized that I should probably just go back to my original idea. Castration, lobotomy, move to Europe, become a priest, and drink my life away on the best wine in the world. That sounds about right.
Ciao,
Much love,
Bo, RN, BSN
P.S. If anyone has any other suggestions they would be greatly appreciated.