You guys are gonna die.
I have a story that ends all stories.
Seriously, it does.
I have told it to a few of my peeps, and jaws have dropped.
It’s been a long, long time since I have had a dating story worthy of it’s very own blog. So tonight, in honor of National Kissing Day...I will relive the most fucked up thing that has happened to me since my face got licked back in October. Do y’all remember that? The Face Licker? When that dipshit licked the hell out of my face in the parking lot at Dean and Deluca. AND made me pay the bill! Yes. That was definitely blogable, but this my friends…this story might take the cyber cake. Damn this bat-shit crazy world. What is happening? Can’t a girl just get a normal date anymore?
So, I am talking to this guy. No, I’m lying. We are texting. Whatever, and he is a friend of a friend. And we have known each other for a long time, ok? This isn’t some freak from JDate, or some loon off of Tinder. This is a solid fella. I’m telling you, the boy is a stand-up citizen. And he’s charming, and good looking. He is a good man. So, we set up a time for the weekend, right? And we are chatting and talking…and it’s all good. And then, he asks me if I can please wear RED LIPSTICK on our first date. Ummmm. I started to laugh. And I reread the text. Red lipstick? What the fuck. He said, “Jen, can you please wear red lipstick.” He did. I guess he did say please, I mean that’s nice. So, I write back,”RED is not really my color. And I don’t even own red lipstick. I’m more of a pink-kinda-gal.” Now, why I’m even having this conversation, is fucking beyond me. But I am. So he then proceeds to tell me that I would look fabulous in RED and that no worries, he would take care of it.
Mr. Max Factor is going to take care of it, great!
Wait. What? What does that mean? I’m like, are you fucking kidding me? He’s going to “take care” of what? My lips, the gloss…get me a make-up artist? omg. I started to get all panicky and sweat a little. I’m thinking of Silence of the Lambs, I go there a lot…to the dog in the hole, and the girl with no skin. And I’m like,”how will you take care of it?” And he says, “I have a picture of you, and I’m going to go to Nordstrom’s, and pick out the perfect shade.” Wow. Wooooowwww. Ok. Is this a red flag at this point, or a really sweet gesture? I mean, in 14 years of marriage, Mark never picked out a lipstick for me. Fuck, I can actually remember putting on red lipstick at Ulta once, and him telling me to take it off that I looked like a hooker. Good times. Red is just not my color, Mr. Max Factor! And it would be different if we had dated for like, ummm…a year, and he wanted me to wear heels in bed. Or a cowboy hat when I’m on top. Or dress up like a french maid. Ok, never. But red lips on a first date? Yikes.
So, I end the conversation politely, hang up…and text my girlfriends. I tell them the story, with added emoji lips and lipsticks for effect. They all agree that he is a whacko. But a sweet, hot, nice whacko. And I cancel the date. Yes I do. I tell him that I have the runs. And just can’t leave the house. Then I ignore him. And give him the coldest shoulder known to man. I felt bad, ok? I did. So, I decided to go to Nordstrom for a little retail therapy. I went to the make-up counter feeling just a little guilty for canceling, after all he was just being sweet, right? And the girl looks at me and says,”Are you dating a guy named, Mr. Max Factor? Tall, good looking…nice? He was in here last night buying you RED LIPSTICK!! So nice! He had your picture so we could get the exact shade! How did it work out?”
I wanted to die.
I was going to slap the bitch, drop to the floor…and crawl out of the mall.
The next day, I got a text from him. He said,”Ok, ok. You WIN! I’ll exchange the red for PINK!! Let’s go out for dinner!” I thought it was funny. And cute. And he was trying so hard, which is more than any other man had done for me in a long, long time. So, in honor of National Kissing Day I think I just might give Mr.Max Factor a shot. Maybe we will be friends. Friends that go shopping together. Or travel together, or hang out and laugh. So pucker up, all y’all…and get yourself some red lipstick. Or pink. Hell, just pucker up and kiss someone. Oh, and give a nice guy a second chance, you never know when you will make a good friend. Or get a new tube of lipstick! ;)
Tags: dating, dating after divorce, dating with kids, divorce, freedom after marriage, jennifer hurvitz, jennifer weintraub, love, relationships, sex after marriage, the truth hurvitz